A Collection of iCarly Episodes
by numbuh777
Summary: This is a compilation of iCarly fics, spinning tales about the iCarly gang at different points of the series. Current Story: iStart A New Year. Freddie is stuck at the Shays' alone, unable to attend New Years celebrations. A certain blonde comes to keep him company. A special holiday oneshot and the very last in the collection. R&R! COMPLETE! And farewell.
1. iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT: PART 1

Hello, all you iCarly fans! I'm numbuh777, kinda new to the iCarly fanfiction writing thingy. But in my spare time, I thought of several fanfiction ideas and decided to post them - but not as oneshots, as I usually do (because I have no perseverance for longer stories), but as a compilation of 'lost' episodes. This means that I will be attempting to make the stories and the characters as true to the show as possible. Of course, if you find anything you think should be changed to make it better or if you have any ideas to add, feel free to leave a comment and flame me.

This first one is an almost-done-to-death theme, the infamous "Griffin/Seddie" version of iBeat The Heat. I, just like probably most of you, was sorely disappointed when the much rumoured Seddie drama with Griffin did not come about. This story is, well, my remix of it, and my take on how the episode should have been. But relax, it's gonna be much better than you think. Hopefully. Oh please.

However, before the "Creddiers" flee screaming, relax. While I am a Seddie fan, I am not going to put in obscene amounts of romantic interaction between those two (sorry to disappoint). I hope that everyone would see this as for what it is, a pretend episode. That said, this IS a take on the 'Seddie/Griffin' version of iBeat The Heat, so some Seddie-ness is to be expected.

Well, with that out of the way, let us begin. I'm aiming for a 3 or 4 parter, so stay tuned!

_Disclaimer: I do not own iCarly or any of it's related ideas or merchandise. Wish I did, though._

**iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT - PART 1**

_

* * *

_

_**Location: The Shays' Apartment, Bushwell Plaza  
**__**Time: 1200 hours**_

It was a Saturday afternoon in sunny Seattle - a day where the streets would usually be filled with tourists and teenagers shopping, hanging out, and having fun outside. The sun was high in the sky, burning down upon deserted streets, and save for a hobo rummaging through a rubbish bin, the city resembled a ghost town.

"Freddie, how hot is it now?" The brown haired girl yelled from the kitchen, craning her neck in an attempt to see through the window from a meter away. She had made the mistake of touching it a while ago, and she was still trying to cool down the burn. _As if there's anything out there that can make the day cooler, _she thought.

From his comfortable spot on the sofa, a similarly dark haired boy in a polo shirt and shorts tapped a few keys on his laptop with one hand while attempting to fan himself with the other. "It's 45 degrees!" he shouted back.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then an ice-cube flew out from the kitchen, hitting Freddie on the head. He jumped in shock as the girl stormed out of the kitchen, waving her burnt hand in his face and screeching loudly.

"You think I got burnt on a hot window in FORTY-FIVE degree weather?"

Freddie immediately stepped back. "Celsius, Carly! 45 degrees Celsius! Sorry!" he stammered.

"Oh." Carly muttered in realisation. "Sorry."

It was this blasted heat wave, she thought. Seattle was going through a massive rise in temperature, and everyone in the city was suffering. Her extensive array of fans and her air-conditioning system were on full blast, and even with some software tweaks from her friend, technical producer and neighbour Freddie Benson, it was little better than a sauna. It was so hot, the windows was practically melting off the sills.

On the sofa, the boy himself was absent-mindedly rubbing his head, thinking of exactly the same thing. This morning had seemed perfectly fine, with bright blue skies and not a cloud in sight…and then it had just degenerated from there. The heat was making everyone go crazy, Freddie concluded - himself checking an Australian website for the weather in Celsius, and Carly causing him pain.

He chuckled to himself - causing pain was definitely out of character for Carly Shay. No, that department was very much ruled by -

At that moment, the main door flew open with a crash and in entered a hurricane with blond hair, better known as Samantha Puckett, the other best friend of Carly and Freddie. Despite the heat, she entered the kitchen quickly, opened the freezer door, and stuck her head inside, letting out a sigh of relief at the cold air.

"Err…guys? What's Sam doing?" came a voice belonging to a lanky raven-haired adult as he emerged a back room cradling a fan, only to spot Sam with her head in a freezer.

"She's cooling herself down, Spencer." Carly answered with a nonchalant shrug, running cold water over her burnt hand.

"Or feasting on the frozen pizzas." Freddie added, used to his friend's crazy antics.

"Am…not…" came a muffled voice from the freezer. Sam pulled her head out, her hand now grasping a half-eaten frozen pie. "This pie tastes like burnt road kill…or like those horrible prune-and-haggis pies Freddie's crazy mother keeps making!"

"Hey!" Freddie retorted. Then he grinned. "Oh, that's where those pies went, Sam."

The blonde's eyes widened in horror and she dashed to the sink, spitting out the remnants of the pie inside. Carly just shook her head and turned back to her older brother.

"So, Spencer, why are you carrying a big heavy fan around? Wouldn't it be better to sit in front of it all day?", she asked.

Her older brother smiled like a kid with a secret, striding towards his sister in the kitchen. "Well, I'm a very busy person, and now I'm receiving constant chilled air as I walk around the house, staying fresh and relaxed. I can go anywhere I want and stay coo-"

At that point, the power cable pulled away from the socket in his room, flying out in front of everyone and causing the fan to die. Spencer glared at the trio's giggles.

"Yeah, laugh all you want…" Spencer paused, cut off by the others' mirth. "But then you won't get to see my super awesome AIR CONDITIONER!"

That sobered all three up, as right on cue the elevator dinged, doors opening to unveil a huge metal gadget with holes and yellow tubes that looked like something out of a science fiction movie. With a whoop, the twenty-six year-old Spencer dashed over, wheeled it out and plugged it in, and glorious cold air spurted out almost like magic.

Carly, Sam and Freddie couldn't believe their eyes…and their now much cooler skins. All three rushed over and took their places beside Spencer and next to the air conditioner, revelling in the cool air.

"Should I be wondering where this came from?" Freddie mused.

"Just shut up and enjoy, Frednub." Sam replied, her eyes closed and her blond locks blowing back from the force of the wind.

Spencer grinned smugly and answered Freddie, "Remember that Japanese salesman Carly and I helped move out of his apartment last week? Well, he just dropped this off about an hour ago, with a personal thank you card for both of us."

Carly nodded, remembering. "Yeah, that took ages!" Pausing, she winced, adding, "Perhaps you should have told him that you accidently set his ancient urn on fire, Spence. I'm sure that his great-grandmother's ashes shouldn't be roasted twice."

The four laughed.

"Man, this is the best air I've ever had in my whole life!" Sam shouted in joy. The others couldn't agree more, and all of them leant in to enjoy the chilled air.

At that exact moment, the power went out, shutting off the air conditioner.

All four stood in stunned silence, confused stares on their faces. Then they sprung into action.

Freddie immediately tried to formulate and expound on a rational explanation. "It's probably a citywide blackout, caused by the thousands of people using their air conditioning systems at the same time…"

Sam instantly shut Freddie up by hitting him on the back of the head, hard.

Carly was already two steps ahead. "Wait, Spence, remember the generator you used for some crazy sculpture last month?"

Spencer leapt up, galvanised into energy. "Me remembers! Me go get it!" He was so excited that his command of grammar went out of the window. The lanky adult dashed out of the room, heading to his storage space. In a flash, he was wheeling another monstrous machine inside, obviously the generator.

"Well? Plug it in!" Sam yelled.

Spencer did just so, adjusting all the connections with Freddie's help. He flipped the switch, and…

Instant cold air. They were now the only people with electricity and air conditioning in Seattle. Everything was going swimmingly now, Carly thought joyfully as the rush of air blew her hair back. It was looking like she could just lie back and chill.

She was wrong. Things were just getting started.

* * *

**END OF PART 1**

(A/N) Sorry if that seemed a little slow, but this was serving as an introductory chapter. More action will be coming soon, I promise!

Okay, a few things I want to tell you before you go:

1. Sneak Preview: The next chapter is going to have revolving POVs. And a mystery person shows up. Who is it? Give me your thoughts!

2. You can find more of stories like these on my blog. Yes, shameless self-promotion, I know. But please do have a look. It can be found at www(dot)thewritestories(dot)wordpress(dot)com. The (dot)s are, well, dots. You know, ".". Hope that wasn't too hard to follow.

3. Also, you can check out my other fanfiction by clicking on my username hyperlink.

4. Who's excited for the next episode of iCarly? I know I am! Just thought I'd get that out there.

Alrighty, please remember to post messages! Questions, comments, snide remarks, anything. That little button with "Review" underneath? That's the one. Click it!


	2. iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT: PART 2

Hello, citizens of the planet! Today iFound out that updating my Fan Fictions make more people read my stories. Who knew?

Shout out to Izzy Fizz for being the only person that reviewed. Thank you for your kind words - it made my day. For all the rest of you, iHope you feel ashamed that Izzy Fizz beat you to it. And as for the mystery person that's going to be in this chapter...you'll see.

Alrighty then, this part is in three sections - with the point of view focused on Carly, then Spencer, and finally Freddie. It's still in 3rd person, though.

So, enjoy, and prepare yourselves for the next installment of iRemix iBeat The Heat!

_Disclaimer: iDo not own iCarly and its related merchandise. Should iEver do, iWould keep myself in that pleasurable dream state and be a nicer guy than Danwarp ever was. Also, there would be free candy for everyone._

**_iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT - PART 2_**

_**

* * *

Time: 1400 hours**_

Carly was not happy. She was hot, bothered, and frazzled. And a frazzled Carly Shay was not a happy Carly Shay.

First of all, an irate Lewbert the doorman had come screaming upstairs, literally screaming and demanding that the whisper-quiet generator be turned off because it was too noisy. Legally, as the doorman, he could do that…until he saw that the Shays' apartment was the only apartment with electricity and air conditioning.

"Let me stay here in the nice cool air and I'll let you keep those things on!" he had proposed rudely, all the while picking something out of his ears with a tuning fork. No one wanted to know what it was – or why he was eating it afterwards. But since Lewbert had the foursome over a barrel, they had to accept.

Next, the irate and occasionally neurotic mother of Freddie Benson came a-knocking, demanding that she be allowed to bring in some elderly people from other parts of the apartment complex. Why? Because they could die in the heat, according to Mrs Benson. She also gave an analogy about wilting cabbages and rotting hamsters that made the others' stomachs churn. But because she was Freddie's mother, and because she threatened to play some educational videos about underarm care, she had been allowed to enter with the elderly.

Then, the rest of the people in the apartment complex had rushed in to enjoy the cool air. While Spencer was furious about the amount of people present, and Sam was annoyed that the people were hogging her precious yellow tubes, Carly made an executive decision not to kick them out. After all, she tried to reason to the others, someday all of them might need a favour.

Sam, Freddie and Spencer weren't happy.

Without warning, smoke then started billowing out of the air conditioner. Spencer immediately rushed upstairs to the main unit to try to check it out, and returned with a coughing fit, dirt all over his body, and a note that he had found stuffed inside the unit. Apparently the Japanese salesman had discovered the re-burning of his grandmother's ashes, and decided to give the Shays a smoky air conditioning unit as revenge.

So now Carly was not happy as well. While Spencer was up in the studio with a repair guy to fix the unit, the iCarly trio was drinking water in an attempt to cool themselves.

"Ugh!" Sam snarled, tossing away a plastic cup. "No more cold air! This makes me want to punch something!"

She looked over to her favourite punching bag, Freddie Benson, who immediately began backing away once he saw the glint in her eyes. "S-Sam…Sam…stay away…."

He pushed past the people and dashed up the stairs to the studio, hoping that Spencer and the air conditioning unit would provide him with some protection. No such luck. Just as Freddie opened the door, Sam crash-tackled him inside.

"That's what you get for trying to run from me, Benson!" Sam shouted at her fallen friend on the floor as Carly entered, shaking her head. Then she noticed that the trio weren't alone in the room – Spencer and someone else was here as well. That someone else was under the unit, and all that was visible was his feet.

With a sudden click, the unit hummed to life and cold air spurted out. Spencer and the iCarly trio whooped in joy, high-fiving each other.

"Alrighty kids," Spencer mused, wiping some dirt off his face. "I'm a'going down to get me some tomayo juice. It's a mix of tomato juice and mayonnaise. Who wants some?"

"Err...no thanks" Carly said disgustedly as Freddie and Sam shook their heads as well. Spencer just shrugged and exited, giving a yell of "Cold Air! I'm a genius!" out loud.

Chuckling, Carly turned back to the guy underneath the air conditioning unit. "Hey, thanks for helping us out."

"No problem," came the response, his voice muffled by the huge contraption. "Could you help lift this thing so that I can get out?"

"Sure," Sam and Freddie said, moving to opposite sides of the unit. With a grunt, they both lifted the machine, leaving enough space for the guy to slide out. And as he did, Carly, Sam and Freddie were faced with a sight they did not expect to see.

All three of them blanched, Sam letting go of her end of the unit and causing Freddie to drop his end on his foot. He let out a yelp and scowled at Sam, but the girls were too busy being distracted by the mysterious person.

The guy ran a hand through his hair and smiled. "Hello, Carly. Sam. Freddie."

Carly's face was one of disbelief. "What are you doing here, Griffin?"

* * *

_**Location: The Kitchen  
**__**Time: 1415 hours**_

Sashaying past the crowds of people, Spencer Shay made his way over to the fridge in his kitchen. He reached in and pulled out a carton of plum juice ("stupid neighbours, stealing all my tomayo juice!" Spencer muttered), and as he grabbed a nearby cup, he felt his phone ring in his pocket.

"Hello, this is Spencer, the owner of the only working air conditioner in Seattle. How can I help you?"

"You know who this is, I presume?" a sinister voice spoke on the other end, filled with menace. Spencer froze. There was only one person that voice could belong to. A person who, over 3 years, had caused him unimaginable amounts of pain, discomfort, and embarrassment.

His nine year old arch-nemesis.

"How did you get this number, Chuck? No, never mind. When I get my hands on you, I'm going to force-feed you sour milk while making you do the salsa!"

A cold chuckle from the other end was the only response.

"Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. You forget, it's me who has reason to hate you. Remember Camp Add-em-up?"

The elder Shay remembered all right. He and Carly had convinced Chuck's father to send him there after Chuck had beaten up Spencer. It was Carly's idea, especially after seeing the welts on Spencer's face. Not good memories. Spencer still could not believe that a nine-year-old boy could flip him and slap him silly like that.

Chuck was still talking on the other end. "I'm gonna make you pay for that, Spencer! You cost me 2 months of my life!"

Deciding to take the offensive, Spencer retaliated. "Oh really? What's a nine year old boy gonna do to me?" He smirked, feeling smug. There was no way Chuck could get hi-

At that moment, the bottom of the carton of plum juice he was holding fell apart, causing the juice to spill out all over his pants. Over the snickering of everyone else in the room, Chuck yelled one thing over the phone.

"I'm not _going_ to do anything. I'm already doing it! Prepare for the worst day of your life!"

As Chuck hung up, Spencer gave a girlish squeal and threw his phone in the nearby sink, just as it burst into flames. Waving his hands in the air crazily, he dashed out of the kitchen as though there were a pack of wild dogs after him.

Spencer Shay was a marked man.

* * *

_**Location: The iCarly Studio  
**__**Time: 1415 hours**_

Fredward Benson could hardly believe his eyes, and he was pretty sure that both Sam and Carly couldn't either. There, leaning casually against the wall, clad in a skinny jeans and a ripped vest over a shirt despite the heat, was Carly's ex-boyfriend Griffin. He continued smiling as the iCarly trio continued to stare confusedly at him. Not seeming too perturbed that his ex-girlfriend was questioning his presence, he dusted his jeans and answered Carly.

"Well, Carly, your brother needed an air-conditioning repairman, and here I am. As you can see," Griffin gestured to the air-conditioner, "I did a pretty good job, don'tcha think?"

Carly reluctantly nodded, accepting the fact that her ex-boyfriend, outside of school, was a _bona fide_ jack-of-all-trades. She was still attempting to shrug off the awkwardness, though.

Sam Puckett, on the other hand, didn't seem to feel anything but the cool air. "Indeed. Great job, hot stuff," she winked flirtatiously, grabbing a yellow tube and holding it in front of her face to get the full effect of the cold air.

Freddie didn't seem to notice either the awkwardness or the cool air.

"Wait, you repair air-conditioners? I thought all you did was collect Pee Wee Babies. And talk to them. And pretend to be them and talk back. And keep them inside airtight capsules. In rows upon your shelves. And - "

"We get the point, Freddie!" Carly snapped, shuddering. Her ex-boyfriend's creepily annoying obsession was the very reason why he was now her _**ex**_. Griffin had portrayed himself as the ultimate bad boy, complete with motorcycle, jacket, and scars, but he neglected to mention that he collected little stuffed toys. And talked to them. And –

"So, Griffin, how are the Pee Wee Babies going? Still pretending to be the voice of the little penguin...oh darn, what was his name?" Freddie stared up at the ceiling, pretending to be deep in thought. "Oh yeah, Peter Penguin! How are his adventures in Candy Mountain?"

Griffin interrupted her unpleasant memories testily. "That was months ago, Freddie. I've changed now – I've realised that those little stuffed toys were holding me back. I started pimping out my motorcycle instead. Just installed a new 5 cylinder turbo-mech fuel-injection system, and now it accelerates faster than a monkey on Peppy Cola."

Freddie smirked in disbelief, glancing at both Carly and Sam, the former who was clearly still feeling the awkwardness around Griffin, and the latter who was sprawled out on a beanbag with a yellow tube, half asleep and clearly not caring about what was going on.

"So Griffin," Freddie flippantly queried, still amused at the Pee Wee Baby memories. "You came to ask Carly to date you again?"

As Carly gave an awkward smile, Griffin chuckled softly. "Nope. Just here to fix the air-conditioner."

He paused.

"And also to see if Sam was doing anything at six tonight."

Three things happened at once.

Carly gasped.

Freddie whirled around from his laptop, shocked. "Sam?" he asked incredulously.

And Sam leapt up, tossing the yellow tube at Freddie. "Just what'cha talkin' about?" she queried in disbelief.

Griffin grinned. "I got two tickets for the travelling tour of the Australian Outback Spectacular. And since they're serving steaks, I thought they would be right up your alley. So, what about it, Sam? Those cows aren't gonna eat themselves..."

Sam pretended to consider for just a second. "Uh, yeah! I've been wanting to eat them for ages!" A pause. "I mean, see them for ages."

Griffin chuckled. "Cool. Text you the details later." So saying, he breezed out the door.

The moment the door closed, Sam whirled back to face Freddie and Carly. "Oh my word, I'm gonna get me some steaks!" she spluttered excitedly.

Freddie saw her excited reaction change in an instant when she caught sight of Carly's stunned face. "Sam!" Carly half-yelled. "How could you?"

As Sam's eyes narrowed, Freddie slowly sidled out of the room. Things were taking a turn for the worse, or so he judged by the heated exchange starting inside the studio.

He had to do something quick, or this situation was not going to end well.

Problem was, Freddie had no idea what to do.

* * *

**_END OF PART 2 OF iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT_**

Now, this may be an odd time to ask a favour, but that is exactly what I am going to do right now. I would love you to review and write anything you want. In case you are stuck for ideas, here's a few topics you can muse about:

1. What's going to happen with Sam and Carly? How is Freddie going to solve this? Will Spencer meet his untimely end at the hands of a revengeful kid? Discuss and give your ideas!

2. Were the characters in...well, character? Was the writing good? Did I use too many commas? Any flames or constructive criticism about the story, or even undeserved compliments, please post them as a review!

3. What are your speculations for iSam's Mom? Can't wait for it to come out...

Thanks for that. As a special revelation, the next part will include a...for want of a better word, a D&M with Samantha Puckett and Fredward Benson. Look forward to it and keep checking back here for updates!

- NUMBUH777


	3. iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT: PART 3

Today, Imma gonna start a little differently. Disclaimers first - because without it, I would be liable in law. Better than being a mother in law, considering I'm a guy.

_**DISCLAIMER:**__ I do not own iCarly, its characters, or any related merchandise and official ideas. I also do not own Victorious, but to be truthful, if I could have either, I would take iCarly any day._

Okay, now that THAT's out of the way...

Firstly, I would like to give a nod to the many readers of this fanfic. Yup, that's it. A nod.

Secondly, I would like to give both a nod, and a tip of my non-existant hat to the people who put this on their Alerts and Favourite Stories list. Thanks.

Thirdly, I just want to really appreciate, as of so far, the two people who have reviewed this story. Thank you for all your fine words, feedback, and comments, and I shall strive to the best of my horrendous writing ability to continue to keep this story awesome for your enjoyment. That's _axel100 _and _Izzy Fizz_. Heart you two.

Fourthly, these stories have been written on my iPhone, during breaks between classes. If this section is not up to scratch, doesn't make sense, and so on, please tell me and I shall endeavour to improve. To placate you guys as well, since this is a shorter 'chapter', I have also added 'Author's Notes' just after the sections.

Alrighty then. Enough talk by the faceless, and possibly talentless author. Please remember to leave a review with any questions, comments, or snide remarks.

Onward, noble steed!

**iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT: PART 3**

_**

* * *

Location: The Living Room  
**__**Time: 1545 hours**_

Barricaded in his room, Spencer Shay was frightened, paranoid, and freaked out. And it was all thanks to the series of tortures done by his nemesis Chuck.

In the space of 30 minutes, Spencer had been electrocuted when he touched the thermostat, drenched and hit on the head by a falling bucket of water artfully placed over a door, and sprayed by red food colouring when he went to wash his hands.

And throughout the entire time, he hadn't caught sight of Chuck once.

It bugged him that a nine-year-old kid could sneak in and out like a ninja and cause him great pain without getting spotted even once. And in his own house as well.

Currently, Spencer was sitting in his room, trying to think of a way to catch Chuck in the act and kick the kid halfway to Yakima. Nothing useful was coming to mind yet.

But that was not to say he hadn't tried. Spencer had hidden inside an alcove in the corridor for 10 minutes in an attempt to ambush Chuck. On hearing a noise, the elder Shay had leapt out, brandishing a hockey stick and yelling incoherently.

It almost freaked Lewbert, the unfortunate victim, half to death. Screaming and blubbering something about invading Canadian beavecoons, the doorman took off like a flash, leaving an apologetic Spencer (and oddly, a jar of toenail clippings) in his wake.

The elder Shay was far from beaten, though. He was going to march out there and find Chuck, even if he had to rip the place apart with his bare hands.

If only he wasn't so afraid of physical harm.

A scuffling noise emanated from outside the door. Spencer's instinctual act was to leap under the bed - but after 17 minutes of doing that already, Spencer decided to do something different. Standing tall, Spencer yelled, "I'm not home! Leave a message!"

No answer. Spencer swore – it was another false alarm.

_Enough of being a coward_, Spencer thought. He was going to go hunting.

Suiting the action to the word, Spencer leapt up, threw open the door...

...and tripped over the fishing wire Chuck had placed between the doorframe. He collapsed heavily on the floor in a heap, cutting his face just below his eye.

Spencer sighed in defeat. He was going to call Carly for help - she would be able to think of something, he decided. Thing was, he couldn't find his phone. Spencer started searching through his pockets, and then he remembered where it was. It was in the sink, half-burnt – all thanks to Chuck.

"Oh, for the love of Michelangelo!" Spencer swore in exasperation.

"Excuse me, Spencer?" came a voice from next to him. Spencer turned to see Dr Dresdin, one of his neighbours, looking at him oddly. **(1)** To be specific, looking at the cut he just received from falling down.

"What?" Spencer answered a little brusquely due to his frustration. The doctor was slightly taken aback, but then he chuckled.

"Oh, it's just your cut. You look a bit like that boy wizard that saves the world or something **(2)**. Mind if I take a picture? I don't have a camera, but my PearPhone should do the trick..." he trailed off, turning and rummaging through his bag.

Spencer was even more furious at the turn of events. "See here, doc," he snarled, adding an emphasis on _'doc'_. "I don't have time for this. I have to -"

_Wait_.

Spencer's eyes moved spastically as his mind raced, latching onto an idea and formulating a plan. As something clicked in his head, he squealed in delight and dashed off, but not before hugging Dr Dresdin in glee. The doctor could only stare after him in shock and confusion, PearPhone in hand.

It was time for Spencer to get his revenge.

* * *

**(1) **_That's the doctor from iFight Shelby Marx….and ironically enough, the much more viewed iBeat the Heat iCarly episode._

**(2) **_Anyone get the reference? Yes? No?_

_

* * *

_

_**Location: The iCarly Studio  
**__**Time: 1645 hours**_

The door flew open as the blond-haired girl stormed inside, pausing only to smash the door shut. She started pacing the length of the floors, so angry that she didn't even stop to cool herself down from one of the yellow tubes scattered around, instead kicking one out of the way.

To say that Samantha Puckett was furious was an understatement. She was madder than the other times she fought with Carly. She was madder than when she quit iCarly **(3)**. She was even madder than the time the Mexican ambassador tried to cut in front of her in the line at the supermarket, forcing her to shove a chilli dog down his pants **(4)**. Juvie was worth the look on his face, she continued to maintain.

But this time was different. Or so Carly tried to tell her. Usually when Carly and Sam fought over a guy, they knew that the other wanted him. But Carly had told her about 20 minutes ago that she had no more romantic attachment to Griffin - she just didn't want Sam to go on a date with him. All for reasons unknown.

Sam had regarded that as ridiculous. Of course Carly must still want him - why else wouldn't she want Sam to go on a date? Sam had told her so, in harsher tones and not so many words, and the shouting match had continued until Sam could take no more and left.

Well, until now. Sam had waiting for Carly to leave the studio before sneaking back in. Why? Because her handbag, and her emergency stash of beef jerky, was inside. Beef Jerky, or any type of Jerky, or rather any meat product, helped her to think…...or so she kept telling everyone.

_Speaking of jerky..._

Sam grabbed her bag, removing a slice of meat and popping it into her mouth. She tossed her bag away and turned back to see...

_Freddie?_

The geek was standing at his tech cart, typing away on his laptop. He glanced up, and, seeing Sam looking at him, gave an "Oh, hey Sam." before turning back to the screen.

"How long have you been here?" Sam asked with a glare in her eyes and a mouthful of meat.

Freddie raised his head. "Before you came in. You entered, paced, kicked a yellow tube, and ate some meat. Seems that you get distracted when you're angry."

Sam grunted. "Whatever. It's none of your business, Fredward."

She started pacing the floors again, still annoyed. After five minutes, she spun around. "Benson! You think I'm right, right?"

No answer. Freddie continued his typing.

Sam strode over, smashing the laptop lid down on Freddie's fingers, causing him to yelp in pain **(5)**. He rubbed them in an attempt to ease the pain and returned Sam's glare. "What was that for?" he yelled.

"You weren't listening to me, Benson! Do you think I'm right?"

Freddie stood up straight. "Right about what?"

"Right about Carly wanting Griffin to herself! That's why she's so selfish!" Sam spat.

Freddie's gaze softened. "Sam," he paused. "I think you're dead wrong."

Sam's head snapped back as though struck. "Figures," she muttered in hatred. "The tech dork, always defending his unrequited love **(6)**. What a surprise. See you around, Benson."

The blond-haired girl started to stride out of the room, only to feel Freddie's hand grasp her shoulder. "Let go of me, Benson!"

"I'm not finished, Sam." was his soft response as he took his hand off her shoulder.

Sam was surprised to see a different expression on Freddie's face. It wasn't fear, or anger, or even his trademark half-smirk. Instead...it almost seemed _caring_.

"You got 2 minutes, Fredward."

"Look at it logically, Sam." Freddie began, talking quickly. "When you and Carly fought over Jake, she admitted that she liked him. Conversely, when Griffin broke up with her, she moved on, even making fun of him on the iCarly website. It doesn't make sense that she now likes him again, especially since she could have spent a better part of three months contacting him. And if she did, she would have told you. Therefore, what she said must have been true."

Sam chewed over that thoughtfully. The boy had a point, she decided. Carly didn't like people lying, and she was unlikely to do so herself, even if it made her seem selfish. Then a thought struck her.

"Wait, how do you know what Carly said? You weren't in the room."

Freddie looked away guiltily. "Err...I'm psychic?"

Sam flicked him hard on the forehead in response. "That's for listening in to Carly and my argument, Frednub. Where were you, anyway?"

Rubbing his head, Freddie muttered, "Just outside the door, behind some boxes. It's a pretty good place to hide." **(7)**

Sam nodded, beginning to rethink the facts as they took on a whole different complexion. Without realising it, she began pacing again, but at a slower speed and tempo. Then she whirled around and began to exit the room again.

"Sam."

The Puckett girl stopped in her tracks, turning to see Freddie looking at her. Satisfied that he had her attention, he pressed a few keys on his laptop and then removed his PearPhone from the USB cable before he spoke.

"About your date tonight," Freddie paused momentarily as a flash of annoyance crossed the girl's face, mostly because he had interrupted her leaving. "My advice is: Don't go."

Sam's emotions were a mix of shock and anger. Anger because, well, the nub was intruding into her personal life – and he was not Carly. But that was tempered by the shock; shock because Freddie had never offered dating advice to her ever. Not once. What he was doing now was totally out of character for him.

"Why?" Sam shot back, oscillating between annoyance and confusion.

"Because there's only two ways this can end. Either you two start dating regularly, or he dumps you. With the first, Carly will keep being angry with you and you two continue fighting – and we all know how that turns out. I have no wish to see either of you fall off a window washer's platform again **(8)**." Sam shuddered slightly as she recalled that traumatic incident. Freddie was right – she did not want to see anything like that occur again.

Freddie was still speaking. "Secondly, if Griffin dumps you – Carly might calm down, but you'll be…uh…not your usual self. You were pretty mopey after Jonah…well, at least until you remembered you got to wedgie-bounce him for 4 hours **(9)**. And I don't want you to have to go through that again."

If Sam was shocked then, she was stunned now. Freddie Benson was…looking out for her? "Y-you're trying to _protect_ me?" she stuttered.

The dark-haired boy opened his mouth as if to say something, then shook his head, catching himself. "Nah," he replied almost too flippantly. "I'm trying to protect myself. That night you wedgie-bounced Jonah, you raided my fridge, smashed open my front door and my room door, changed my status on **(10)** to 'Freddie Benson is a weenie', destroyed my electric toothbrush, and replaced my shampoo with liquid glue. All in one night. I don't want that to happen again."

Sam nodded, though it seemed a little weak to her. "What makes you think I won't dump Griffin instead?" she queried.

Freddie started to exit the room, turning back and smirking slightly. "With free steaks? Please. You pretended to be a butcher last week to steal some sausages. No, you'd continue to date Griffin until graduation if he provided you with meat products."

Freddie paused, speaking softly – almost pleading even. "So, my advice is not to go tonight." With that, he left, pulling the door shut quietly behind him.

Samantha Puckett continued staring at the space where Freddie was, mind racing in a confused blur.

She had a decision to make.

And she had no idea which was the right one.

* * *

**(3) **_From iQuit iCarly. I personally think the two kids had potential to be a new comedy duo taking the world by storm….with hospital sketches and purple alien stunts. Though 'THE BLOWING' trailer was freakin' hilarious._

**(4) **_From iWon't Cancel The Show. Oddly enough, the show was different without Jennette. Shows how much of the show requires Sam interaction._

**(5) **_Copied that one from iOwe You. Great line by Freddie with "You crushed my scrolling finger!"_

**(6) **_And all the 'Creddiers' say: "Awwww…."_ _Even though I'm supposed to be neutral, on behalf of all the Seddie shippers, here's a heartfelt 'ugh!'._

**(7) **_Remember that._

**(8) **_Again, from iQuit iCarly. That was a little confronting for a kids' show, methinks._

**(9) **_From iHate Sam's Boyfriend. I'm sure that Jonah would now have the qualifications to take over Justin Bieber as 'Tween Pop star that has yet to reach puberty'._

**(10) **_Yes, that was a reference from Victorious, Dan Schneider's second-rate show._

* * *

That's it for me. 'Till next time...

Again, please remember to leave a review, even if it merely contains mindless gushing about 'Seddie'. Heart y'all!

- NUMBUH777


	4. iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT: PART 4

Friends, enemies, and the random hobo from Hoboken. Greetings.

It is with great pleasure that I present the final chapter of iRemix iBeat the Heat. It has been great writing this, and it is with sorrow that I bring the story to a conclusion.

But not to worry, all who love me (nobody), all who don't (possibly more), and all who don't know who I am (the rest) - I am in the process of penning (or rather, typing) the next story in this collection of iCarly Stories! When that is to be released is still unknown, but rest assured, it will come.

I would like to take this time to thank all who read, and to give much kudos to all who reviewed. As such, I am going to give a personal message to those who reviewed since the last chapter:

_**axel100:** Thank you for enjoying it! I'm not actually sure how to respond to your rant...but I appreciate the amount of time and thinking that was put into it. I also understand how you might think that I am resorting to the show's usual patterns, but that was the point of these stories - to write in a way that is almost similar to an actual iCarly episode. Also, just a few comments:_  
_(1) Yes, Carly is the main character, but there have been times where she wasn't in a main plot per se (see iMHL239)._  
_(2) The iCarly writers HAVE to resolve plots within the 30 minutes allotted (notwithstanding two or three parter episodes) because (a) they are pandering to kids, who like endings, and (b) television networks often air episodes out of order, thus causing confusion if totally different attitude shifts occur due to unordered airings._  
_(3) On the other hand, thanks for your liking of the Spencer secondary plotline._

_**Boris Yeltsin: **Thanks for your comments and story suggestions! I already have an idea for the next story...and unfortunately, for several reasons, I would not be able to use your interesting plot suggestions. From review order:_  
_(1) Sam getting hit on the head HAS been done before (by MANY fanfic authors), but it's the acting like a baby part that is novel. Unfortunately, short of a 'Disney-like' story where the characters have to traverse magical lands to get an age potion, I can't imagine a suitable 'iCarly-like' plot to make it work._  
_(2) Interesting idea! Unfortunately, I am currently studying law in University, and there is no suitable remedy in civil or criminal laws that allow such a story to work. Additionally, I can't imagine a whole plot with that idea that actually works._  
_(3) I'm sorry, but I have never seen The Three Stooges._  
_All in all, though, I appreciate your ideas and viewership of this story. I hope you continue to read this as well as offering more ideas! Thank you!_

_**Floaging:** Indeed, the run up did throw everyone off! I recall being so excited for a Seddie episode, only to watch it all and say "Did I just get tricked?" Anyways, thank you for your kind words, and I hope you like this finale as well!_

Okay guys, the official sign-off is at the end, but as for now, **please remember to post a review**! Anything, short of profanity, is acceptable! Give me your thoughts and I shall give you virtual replies!

Here we go...for the last time.

**_Disclaimer:_** _Legally and in fact, I do not own iCarly or any of its related characters or merchandise. In my imagination, though...anything can happen. Except for Creddie._

_Don't shoot me!_

* * *

_iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT - PART FOUR_

* * *

_**Location: The Stairwell of Bushwell Plaza  
**__**Time: 1730 hours**_

The tall teenager, clad in jeans and a leather jacket despite the heat, strode confidently up the flight of stairs that separated his floor from Carly Shay's. Removing a comb from his pocket, he combed his hair once, all the while never breaking a stride.

Griffin, the bad boy was back.

As he casually climbed the stairs, Griffin did a quick spot check of himself. Hair stylistic, clothes rocking, and persona intoxicating. He moved with the confidence of a person who usually gets what he wants.

_And tonight_, Griffin smirked, _he was going to get -_

_What the?_

"Carly? Are you alright?" Griffin asked, pausing at a turning on the 6th floor to be greeted with the sight of a dark-haired girl sitting on the steps, eyes distant and staring off into space. On seeing Griffin, Carly tried to act casual.

"Umm...yeah, I'm okay, Griffin." Carly replied, voice shaky.

Griffin smiled knowingly and sat down on the step next to her. "Come on, Carly. What's going on?"

Sighing, Carly began speaking, words tumbling out in a rush. "Well, first of all, it's unbearably hot outside. Second of all, the unbearable heat caused the window to burn my hand, and it still hurts. And thirdly, my ex just asked my best friend out tonight and it's making me all angry!"

Griffin took all this in without saying a word. Then he spoke softly.

"Well, there's nothing I can do about the first, but as for the second..." Despite her confusion, he lifted Carly's hand to his lips and kissed it slowly, causing the girl to nearly swoon.

Before either of them could say something else, a soft beeping sound burst out from Griffin's pocket. He sighed and flipped open his mobile phone, reading the message. A look of confusion crossed his face, quickly replaced by a grin.

Carly Shay was still staring at him in confusion. "Who was that? Was that Sam?" she shot out.

Griffin tucked away his phone and faced the iCarly star, face solemn.

"Carly, there's something I need to tell you. I'm not going to go on a date with Sam tonight."

More confusion on Carly's part. "You mean she said no?" Carly said, gesturing to Griffin's phone.

"Actually, she said yes. But I'm not going because I wanted to go on a date with you."

Carly was stunned, and touched...to an extent. Not enough to fail to ask the obvious. "I-If you wanted to go out with me...why did you ask Sam?" Carly stuttered.

Griffin cleared his throat, looking away sheepishly. "Well...I thought that..."

"You thought that I would be jealous if you asked Sam out?" Carly finished, already arriving at the right conclusion.

The boy nodded.

Carly's mind was racing, taking in the implications of that statement.

Oh, she _was_, to an extent, touched over the fact that Griffin chose her over Sam. In some dark corner of her mind, she was unsurprised that it happened, purely because boys usually chose her first and not because of any inherent selfishness on her part. But she did feel sorry for Sam on those occasions.

That was what was stopping her from leaping up and hugging Griffin now. Samantha Puckett. Despite Sam's crazy antics, occasional lack of hygiene, and frequent eating of all her meat products, Carly regarded Sam as her best friend. And as her best friend, Carly understood that, if she went on a date with Griffin and as a consequence Sam gets stood up, that would be tantamount to a betrayal. Carly knew she would be seriously hurt if that happened to her.

Suddenly, everything seemed clear now.

The younger Shay's eyes focused on an expectantly waiting Griffin. Nervously, she cleared her throat.

"Griffin, listen. I'm not going with you tonight. I wouldn't do that to my best friend."

He seemed surprised. "Aww, come on Carly. Why think of such horrible consequences when we could just enjoy tonight?"

Carly could hardly believe her ears. "Why? Because Sam's my best friend! And you used her to make me jealous!"

Griffin coughed, trying to sound innocent. "Believe me, Carly, I never meant for it to happen..." He trailed off as a blonde teenager appeared from behind him, eyes blazing like hot coals.

"Well, too bad, Griffin - it did happen." Sam Puckett spat, striding towards him. "Nobody uses me like that, ya punk."

The blonde teenager stopped right in front of Griffin. "One more thing, Griffin. I heard every word. And I texted no, not yes." So saying, she pushed him, causing him to lose his balance and fall down several steps. **(1)**

As Griffin got up shakily, muttering a "Pushing me down the stairs? Really?", his eyes shifted from an angry Sam Puckett to a surprised, yet approving Carly Shay. Turning back, his eyes narrowed, and...

...just before he was about to reply with a scathing remark, another beep interrupted him. Still glaring at Sam, he glanced at his phone...

...and all the colour drained from his face. He re-read the text, and then his head snapped back up.

"Carly, Sam..." Griffin said through gritted teeth. "I deeply apologize for what I put you both through. Please know that I will never hurt either of you ever again. Goodbye."

So saying, he fled down the rest of the stairs like a man possessed. The iCarly hosts were left gaping at the strange turn of events.

"Umm...so..." Carly muttered.

"Yeah...err..." Sam replied awkwardly.

They both looked at each other, then simultaneously burst out laughing. Both Carly and Sam embraced, each murmuring their apologies.

Carly took a step back and, taking a deep breath, said, "I'm sorry for being all jealous and going crazy-like. Friends?"

Sam chuckled. "As long as we never fight like this again."

Carly grinned back. "Deal."

Without warning, both of them were interrupted by a "Hola, chicas." as Freddie Benson strolled around the corner, casually smiling. "I take it everything's okay now?"

"Yep!" Carly replied perkily, hugging Sam again. Freddie smiled even wider, happy that the incident was now behind them.

A thought struck Sam. "I wonder why Griffin took off like that. I was gonna start pounding him until he looked like Frothy's hairballs."

"Uh...yeah..." Freddie added nervously and almost too quickly. "Odd. Ah well. Who wants some of my mum's prune pie?" As he said that, he turned towards the exit. Giving each other confused looks, Carly and Sam started to follow.

A high-pitched scream tore though the air, followed by a tremendous crash, causing the three to freeze in horror. By the pitch, it was either a Beverly Hills socialite or Spencer Shay, and since it originated from the studio, the identity of the screamer was obvious. But whatever was that crashing sound?

Without a word, the iCarly trio sped up the stairs to Carly's apartment and the studio, hoping that they weren't too late.

* * *

_(1) One word. Ouch._

_

* * *

_

_**Location: The iCarly Studio  
**__**Time: 1700 hours**_

"Oh my god!" Carly shrieked as she, Sam and Freddie burst through the door, similar looks of horror on their faces. There, crumpled in a heap on the floor, was Spencer. He was unconscious and bleeding from a cut to the head - and by the looks of it, it was pretty deep.

"Is he still alive?" asked a shocked Carly, voice about two octaves higher than usual. Freddie knelt down and measured Spencer's pulse, pausing a few seconds before he spoke.

"Yeah, but it's pretty weak. What are we gonna do?"

Carly stuttered, "Isn't Dr Dresdin in here? He's a doctor; he'll know what to do. Sam?"

"Already on it, Carls." Sam replied, dashing out of the studio and down the stairs. Even though Carly and Freddie were a whole floor up, they could still hear Sam yelling for the doctor.

As Carly wrung her hands in fear, she kept kneeling down to check on Spencer. Freddie was pacing the studio as well, stumbling over a fallen and smashed stage light.

"That's odd..." Freddie mused abstractedly, picking up the light. "Where did a Tetrasonic EX-1 multi-spectrum stage lamp come from? **(2)** And why is it smashed?"

Carly jumped up, furious. "Freddie! Spencer's hurt and all you can think about is your stupid tech toys?"

"No, Carly!" Freddie retorted. "I meant, this was what caused Spencer's head injury! It fell and hit him on the head! But since it was locked and bolted securely, how did it fall?"

Doctor Dresdin stepped through the door, interrupting their tirade. "I came as soon as I heard Samantha. Man, that girl can yell" He muttered to the two teenagers. With two quick strides, Dr Dresdin began a cursory examination of Spencer's vitals and injuries.

"Is Spencer going to be okay, Dr Dresdin?" Carly queried nervously. There was no answer; Dr Dresdin being too caught up with the examination. Both Carly and Freddie could hear him muttering under his breath, "Transient skull fractures...possible concussion...increased intra-cranial pressure..." **(3)**

"Concussion? Pressure? Transient?" Carly gasped, each word a pitch higher than the last. Before she could continue, or have a nervous breakdown, Sam burst in, dragging a young boy behind her by the collar. Chuck.

"I found him hiding under the stairs." Sam said shortly by way of explanation, heaving the frightened boy into the middle of the room. Chuck looked around nervously for a way out. Instead, all he saw were three angry teenagers.

"YOU DID THIS TO MY BROTHER?" Carly screamed, balling her fists in anger. Chuck jumped back in fright.

"Yeah, but I never meant for him to get hurt like that!" Chuck stuttered, pointing at the fallen body of Spencer. "I just wanted to scare him, you know? Just some harmless pranks!"

"Well, your 'harmless pranks'," Freddie gestured using air-quotation marks, "just gave Spencer a concussion!"

"Maybe even brain damage." Dr Dresdin chimed in, ignoring the others' shocked looks as he continued his examination and incoherent muttering.

Carly turned back to Chuck, her eyes blazing in fury. Sam and Freddie also began closing in, trapping Chuck in the corner of the room.

The nine-year-old boy gulped nervously. "W-what are you g-gonna do?" he stuttered out.

Without another word, Sam dragged the boy over to Spencer, forcing him to stare at the unconscious body. "Take a long hard look, Chuck! You injured him for life!"

"Sam!" Carly interrupted, looking rather nervous at the turn of events.

"No Carly," Freddie jumped in, looking curiously determined. "Spencer's my friend too, and I'm not going to let Chuck go without making sure he learns his lesson!"

Grabbing Chuck's head, he forced the kid closer to Spencer's face, ignoring Chuck's squirms and sobs. "Take a long hard look, and remember this sight for the rest of your life!"

Reluctantly, Chuck forced his eyelids open and stared into Spencer's closed eyelids, whimpering in fright.

And that was when Spencer's eyes opened.

With a roar, Spencer leapt up, grabbing Chuck and howling like a maniac. Chuck screamed, twisting out of Spencer's grip and fleeing from the room, frightened almost to death.

Spencer, Sam and Freddie collapsed on the floor laughing till tears came to their eyes, and even Dr Dresdin was smiling. Carly, on the other hand was still staring at the scene, mouth agape. "T-this was just a prank?"

"Well, yeah!" Spencer answered from the floor, wiping away tears. "I used the surveillance cameras in our apartment that Socko **(4) **gave me to see where Chuck was and what he was doing. When I saw him rig the fan, I just put fake blood and makeup on and played possum. And I got the little scamp!"

"Scamp? Who says scamp anymore?" Freddie wondered out loud.

Spencer ignored him, turning to Dr Dresdin. "Thanks for playing along, doc. As promised, your $50."

Dr Dresdin smiled, taking the money and exiting the room.

Carly glared at Spencer, fuming. "You made me think you were dying!" As Sam smothered a laugh, Carly turned. "You and Freddie too! How could you guys do that to me? You freaked me out!" she said, annoyed and pointing at the three of them.

"Well, Spencer wasn't too sure of your acting skills to be able to pull this off..." Sam trailed off, still giggling at their deception.

Carly wheeled back to a sheepish looking Spencer. "Is this true? But I have awesome acting skills!"

Spencer, Sam and Freddie looked at each other. "Well..."

Carly continued glaring, and then broke out in an evil grin. Picking up a nearby yellow tube, she began whacking Spencer with it, threatening him with an "I'm gonna get you, Spence!"

As the elder Shay began squealing like a little girl, Sam and Freddie decided to join in, grabbing yellow tubes and hitting the other two. Soon, it turned into an all out war, with laughter and exclamations of enjoyment ringing out.

Finally, the four were enjoying their summer.

* * *

_(2) For obvious reasons, I could not use the name of a famous international electronics company._

_(3) I have no medical evidence or information to vouch for the accuracy of those symptoms and injuries. What medical knowledge I have has been picked up from watching seven seasons of HOUSE M.D. Feel free to inform me (preferably in a nice manner) whether that was inaccurate or not._

_(4) If you don't know who Socko is, you've either haven't been watching iCarly enough, or you just tune out every time Spencer speaks because you were saving your attention for any Seddie / Creddie interaction. But how cool is a name like that?_

_

* * *

_

_**Location: The Shays' living room  
**__**Time: 1900 hours**_

Fredward Benson, from his comfortable position on the recliner, was talking. Life was now pretty good. The iCarly trio and Spencer had hit each other with yellow tubes for about 15 minutes, having fun until they realized that it was still about 105 degrees Fahrenheit outside. Each of them had decided to have an early dinner, and then just chill comfortably. And that's what he was doing now.

About three hours ago, Freddie Benson was nowhere as comfortable as he felt now. He wasn't happy that Griffin had tried to make Carly jealous by using Sam. His natural protective instincts had arisen once he had put it all together, and he did what was needed in order to solve the problem.

A few hours ago in the studio, just before Sam entered in a blaze of fury, Freddie had been doing what he did best. He did what Carly would have called 'tech stuff', Sam would have called the 'annoying geek-chizz', but what he would have called 'multi-layer configuration access of a centralised off-site closed-circuit system.'

_I need to get out more_, Freddie thought.

Basically, Freddie had hacked into Griffin's security system and discovered something shocking - Griffin was lying when he said that he got rid of all his Pee Wee Babies. Those stuffed creatures were still neatly ordered in transparent plastic capsules and behind an airtight glass container the size of the infamous Locker 239.

In hindsight, and recalling how Griffin had acted last time with his Pee Wee Babies, Freddie shouldn't have been so surprised.

But then Freddie had noticed that the container housing the stuffed toys had their own cooling system, accessed through Griffin's computer. The same computer that Freddie had just hacked into.

So, Fredward Benson merely sent a text to Griffin's phone (after stealing Carly's phone and copying down the number) with a picture of his Pee Wee Babies, a digital widget of the cooling thermostat, and a single message.

LEAVE CARLY AND SAM ALONE. OR ELSE THINGS WILL GET HEATED...WITH YOUR PEE WEE BABIES.

And amazingly, it had worked.

"So," Freddie finished, heading back to the living room after he had arisen to get lemonade, "I don't think we'll be seeing Griffin for a long while." Passing Sam chugging some Peppy Cola on his way, he sat back down on the recliner facing the kitchen, and Carly, who was seated on the couch.

"Shame." The younger Shay mused distractedly. "Did you see those muscles on his arms?"

She looked up to see both Sam and Freddie giving her 'you-gotta-be-kidding-me' looks simultaneously on both sides of her. Carly immediately changed the subject.

"So Freddie, why did you do all this?" she questioned.

"Simple - you guys are my friends, and I didn't want either of you to get hurt." Freddie answered quickly, gulping down three-quarters of his lemonade in one go. Though that could have possibly been because of the miniature cup he was using.

Carly raised an eyebrow. "Either of us? As in, including Sam?"

"Yeah." Freddie answered absently. Then he rapidly blinked as he realized the import of what he just admitted.

"I mean," he covered hastily. "That, and also in an attempt to avoid what happened after the Jonah incid-"

"Ah." Carly interrupted. "Gotcha. I still haven't got the stains out of the sofa from when you," she swivelled around to glare humorously at Sam, "when you poured barbecue sauce over Freddie after he accidentally knocked your club sandwich on the floor."

Sam Puckett merely shrugged at both Carly and Freddie. "Well, what else was I supposed to pour my sauce on?" she shot back, grabbing an apple from a nearby bowl and devouring it.

Carly shook her head and turned back to Freddie, who was about to leave to go home in order not to violate his mother's strict curfew. "Freddie..." she said, getting to her feet. "One more thing. I just want to say thanks for doing what you did."

Then she gave him a friendly hug.

Though the hug couldn't have lasted more than five seconds, at that moment, time seemed to slow.

Two years ago, if Carly was to hug Freddie, he would have closed his eyes to savour the moment, hanging on tighter than a koala bear and earning his Sam-appointed title of 'Creepy Carly Stalker'.

Instead, he kept his eyes open, and he _**saw**_.

Since he was facing the kitchen, he saw Sam Puckett leave the room through the back door, still holding the half-eaten apple. He saw her look back at him and Carly. He saw her quietly leave through the back door.

And for some reason, he couldn't look away. He couldn't stop wondering.

"Errmm...Freddie..." a voice broke through his thoughts. "You can let go of me now."

With a start, Freddie realized that he was still holding onto Carly. He released her and stepped back, coughing awkwardly.

"Umm...yeah, sorry about that." Freddie mumbled. Carly shook her head again in exasperation, saying goodnight and plumping herself down on the sofa.

Freddie Benson took his leave and replied in kind. Slowly, he headed out the door, and with a last lingering look – not at Carly, but at the back door – he left.

_**

* * *

Time: 2330 hours**_

Yawning, a tall figure entered the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Spencer Shay looked around at the kitchen, illuminated only by the faint moonlight, and yawned again.

The elder Shay had awakened thirsty, and so he decided to get some water. Gulping it down contentedly, a faint rumbling in his stomach alerted him to the fact that he was a little peckish as well.

_Darn it_, he thought. _Every time Sam comes over, I never get enough dinner_.

Sighing, he opened the fridge in the hopes that Sam didn't spot the turkey sandwich he had hidden inside. Instead, he unexpectedly found himself holding a dislocated fridge door.

Gaping in shock and nearly dropping the door, he looked closely at the hinges at the sides. They had been unscrewed.

There's only one person who could have done this, Spencer snarled.

"Chuck!" he howled in fury.

_One day_, he vowed. _One day_...

* * *

_THE END._

_

* * *

_

Well? Well? How was that? Too mushy? Too stoic? Was it in character? Did you hate my usage of Spencer as a comic relief? Tell me by leaving a review! It's the button on the bottom of the screen that says REVIEW. Click and write. Please.

To the whole world, I just want to repeat my thanks for reading this story. As already said above, the next story will come soon. However, depending on the amount of feedback I get, I might just post a little something extra in the next two weeks...you have been informed, and you know what to do.

In summary - Thank you so much, loyal readers.

- NUMBUH777


	5. iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT: BONUS OUTTAKE

Good Evening, my learned fans of iCarly. I trust that all is well in your universe?

For those who are wondering, this is not the next story in this series. Instead, this is a little...incentive, you might call it. This is a bonus "outtake" of my version of iBeat The Heat.

In Part 3, there is a scene where Freddie and Sam have a...'discussion' over whether or not Sam should go on a date with Griffin. The first version I wrote for that came across as...well...too mushy for my taste, and not something that would be true to the series. The characters would not be...in character. Yes, that was a pun. So I decided to go with the more _normal_ version.

Right now, though, as a present to get everyone through the long hiatus till iStart A Fanwar, and me through my exams, here is the original take of the scene in Part 3. I hope you enjoy.

One more thing. The next 'episode' in this fanfic will be called: '**iCompete for iCarly**'. The only thing I'm revealing is that a person well known to the iCarly gang makes a surprising return. What will happen? You'll find out soon enough. :P

Feel free to leave a review here - questions, comments, or snide remarks...or even your thoughts on 'Creddie' vs. 'Seddie'. My view is that the latter is far superior, but what I want to know is your views and evidence to back it up. In the words of Carly Shay..."Please? For Me?"

Farewell for at least four weeks. Then I will return, and you'll rue the day. I promise.

**iREMIX iBEAT THE HEAT - BONUS OUTTAKE**

**

* * *

**

_**Location: The iCarly Studio  
**__**Time: 1645 hours**_

The door flew open as the blond-haired girl stormed inside, pausing only to smash the door shut. She started pacing the length of the floors, so angry that she didn't even stop to cool herself down from one of the yellow tubes scattered around, instead kicking one out of the way.

To say that Samantha Puckett was furious was an understatement. She was madder than the other times she fought with Carly. She was madder than when she quit iCarly **(1)**. She was even madder than the time the Mexican ambassador tried to cut in front of her in the line at the supermarket, forcing her to shove a chilli dog down his pants **(2)**. Juvie was worth the look on his face, she continued to maintain.

But this time was different. Or so Carly tried to tell her. Usually when Carly and Sam fought over a guy, they knew that the other wanted him. But Carly had told her about 20 minutes ago that she had no more romantic attachment to Griffin - she just didn't want Sam to go on a date with him. All for reasons unknown.

Sam had regarded that as ridiculous. Of course Carly must still want him - why else wouldn't she want Sam to go on a date? Sam had told her so, in harsher tones and not so many words, and the shouting match had continued until Sam could take no more and left.

Well, until now. Sam had waiting for Carly to leave the studio before sneaking back in. Why? Because her handbag, and her emergency stash of beef jerky, was inside. Beef Jerky, or any type of Jerky, or rather any meat product, helped her to think…...or so she kept telling everyone.

_Speaking of jerky..._

Sam grabbed her bag, removing a slice of meat and popping it into her mouth. She tossed her bag away and turned back to see...

_Freddie?_

The geek was standing at his tech cart, typing away on his laptop. He glanced up, and, seeing Sam looking at him, gave an "Oh, hey Sam." before turning back to the screen.

"How long have you been here?" Sam asked with a glare in her eyes and a mouthful of meat.

Freddie raised his head. "Before you came in. You entered, paced, kicked a yellow tube, and ate some meat. Seems that you get distracted when you're angry."

Sam grunted. "Whatever. It's none of your business, Fredward."

She started pacing the floors again, still annoyed. After five minutes, she spun around. "Benson! You think I'm right, right?"

No answer. Freddie continued his typing.

Sam strode over, smashing the laptop lid down on Freddie's fingers, causing him to yelp in pain **(3)**. He rubbed them in an attempt to ease the pain and returned Sam's glare. "What was that for?" he yelled.

"You weren't listening to me, Benson! Do you think I'm right?"

Freddie stood up straight. "Right about what?"

"Right about Carly wanting Griffin to herself! That's why she's so selfish!" Sam spat.

Freddie's gaze softened. "Sam," he paused. "I think you're dead wrong."

Sam's head snapped back as though physically struck. "Figures," she muttered in hatred. "The tech dork, always defending his unrequited love **(4)**. What a surprise. See you around, Benson."

The blond-haired girl started to stride out of the room, only to feel Freddie's hand grasp her shoulder. "Let go of me, Benson!"

"I'm not finished, Sam." was his soft response as he took his hand off her shoulder.

Sam was surprised to see a different expression on Freddie's face. It wasn't fear, or anger, or even his trademark half-smirk. Instead...it almost seemed _caring_.

"You got 2 minutes, Fredward."

"Look at it logically, Sam." Freddie began, talking quickly. "When you and Carly fought over Jake, she admitted that she liked him. Conversely, when Griffin broke up with her, she moved on, even making fun of him on the iCarly website. It doesn't make sense that she now likes him again, especially since she could have spent a better part of three months contacting him. And if she did, she would have told you. Therefore, what she said must have been true."

Sam chewed over that thoughtfully. The boy had a point, she decided. Carly didn't like people lying, and she was unlikely to do so herself, even if it made her seem selfish. Then a thought struck her.

"Wait, how do you know what Carly said? You weren't in the room."

Freddie looked away guiltily. "Err...I'm psychic?"

Sam flicked him hard on the forehead in response. "That's for listening in to Carly and my argument, Frednub. Where were you, anyway?"

Rubbing his head, Freddie muttered, "Just outside the door, behind some boxes. It's a pretty good place to hide."

Sam took in that information absently, her mind already moving on. "If Carly isn't in love with Griffin, then she doesn't want me to go on a date with him because...she thinks I'm not good enough for him?" Sam trailed off, almost shocked at what was coming from her mouth.

Freddie was almost simultaneously surprised as well. "Sam, you can't seriously believe that, can you?"

"Well, it's true, isn't it?" Sam snapped. "All my life, I've never been able to get anyone good to like me. You had Valerie, 'Magic Malika', and goodness knows whom else liking you at school. Carly - she practically has boys falling over themselves to get her attention! Even you're madly in love with her! And me? The best I had was a crazy boy who couldn't even talk right **(5)**, and a loser who tried to kiss Carly **(6)**! Gibby even turned me down **(7)**! I'm the biggest loser of the relationship kingdom!"

Freddie was taken aback at the force of Sam's furious rant. He was even more stunned to see that, along with the anger in Sam's eyes, there were also tears.

"Sam," he said softly. "I had no idea you felt this way. And here I thought that you were a attractive, funny girl who nobody in their right mind should have turned down."

The blond haired girl in question was gaping at what Freddie had said, stunned into speechless surprise. Never had Freddie said anything like that to her.

"You know," Freddie continued, "when you're not beating me up and giving me wedgies...or sending my phone to Cambodia...or lacing my low-fat gluten-and-taste-free bran muffins with sleeping pills...or..."

Sam couldn't help it; in spite of her residual tears, she started giggling. Freddie smiled.

"In spite of all that...you're one of my best friends - so never say you're not good enough ever again."

"Thanks...Freddie." Sam said, smiling now. Then she reached over and hit him lightly on the arm. "Never get sappy like that again, you hear?"

Freddie grinned. "Gotcha, Princess. Now, where were we?"

Sam's face darkened as her mind returned to the argument. "Well then...what possible reason does Carly have for not wanting me to go on that date?"

"Simple. Logically, there's only one explanation. SHE wants to go on a date with Griffin."

"What the chizz! Didn't you just say that Carly didn't like him?" Sam growled.

Freddie took a step back. "Yes, but that doesn't mean that she doesn't have hormones, Sam. Griffin appealed to her through his masculinity, just as he did to you with meat. She can't help but feel jealous, and that's why she doesn't want you to go on that date."

Sam Puckett mulled over that for a second. It made sense...somewhat. "But just that alone wouldn't have worked. Carly's still freaked out over the whole Pee Wee Baby thing - why does seeing Griffin make her jealous?"

"Um...it's BECAUSE he asked you out that made Carly jealous, Sam. Surely I don't need to spell it out for you...please tell me I don't need to spell it out for you." Freddie answered.

Sam half-smiled. That made sense too.

"So...should I go on a date or not?" she asked finally, waiting for Freddie's response.

Freddie was surprised for the second time in ten minutes. "Samantha Puckett asking me for dating advice? What happened to 'No girl will ever love you, Freddie!'?"

"Oh, shut up. Just answer the question, nub king." was Sam's retort.

Freddie Benson thought hard, well aware that he was in uncharted territory - the rare occasion that Sam asked for his advice.

"My advice? Don't go." was his simple statement.

Sam's face fell ever so slightly, then took on a look of confusion as she wondered. "Why not? Last time Carly and I fought over a boy, you wanted me to win."

Freddie chuckled slightly. "Things have changed. There are two reasons why I don't think you should go out with Griffin - one concerns Carly, the other you."

The blond girl sighed exasperatedly. "Just spit it out, Benson."

Freddie leant forward. "The first is because this is killing Carly. How much of a overreaction this is doesn't matter - she's not cool with this, and as a best friend, you shouldn't do anything that makes her unhappy."

Sam nodded, understanding where Freddie was coming from. After all the fights with Carly, one of which nearly killed both of them through falling from a window-washer's platform, she had learnt that their friendship was more important than these petty squabbles.

Sam frowned. "You said the second one was about me...?" she prodded.

Freddie blushed ever so slightly. "That's something to discuss later." **(8)**

"Benson..." Sam warned, a fake growl in her voice.

"Fine." Freddie gave in. "It occurred to me that Griffin may be doing this deliberately to make Carly jealous. If you go on a date with him, he doesn't fulfil his objective, and things may turn out badly. I...just figured that I could save you the pain."

Sam's mouth was hanging open in shock. Freddie...was...protecting her? It seemed too out of character.

"W-why are you doing this, Freddie?" Sam asked, so stunned that she didn't even realize that she called him Freddie instead of one of her many nicknames.

Freddie looked uncomfortable. "Because, you're one of my best friends, Sam. Despite all the physical pain you've caused me, we're pretty good friends. And friends look out for each other." He turned away, looking almost freaked out by what he just said.

Samantha Puckett was surprised...and a little touched. She strode over to where Freddie was standing with his back to her, causing him to visibly stiffen on sensing her presence, clearly expecting some form of pain from her.

Instead, she reached up and ruffled his hair. "Thanks for that, Benson." **(9)**

Sam paused, and then hit Freddie on the back of the head. "And that's for listening outside the door earlier." So saying, she strode out of the room, demeanour signalling she was thinking things through.

Freddie Benson smiled for a moment, and then turned back to his computer and uploaded something onto his PearPhone. He exited the room and went down the stairs, nodding at Spencer who dashed past him into the studio.

As he looked at his watch, Freddie noted the time. 5.15pm. Griffin would be here soon.

He smiled grimly. Things were coming to a head.

And all he could hope was that Sam made the right decision.

For everyone's sake.

**(1) **_From iQuit iCarly. I personally think the two kids had potential to be a new comedy duo taking the world by storm….with hospital sketches and purple alien stunts. Though 'THE BLOWING' trailer was freakin' hilarious._

**(2) **_From iWon't Cancel The Show. Oddly enough, the show was different without Jennette. Shows how much of the show requires Sam interaction._

**(3) **_Copied that one from iOwe You. Great line by Freddie with "You crushed my scrolling finger!"_

**(4) **_And all the 'Creddiers' say: "Awwww…."_ _Even though I'm supposed to be neutral, on behalf of all the Seddie shippers, here's a heartfelt 'ugh!'._

**(5) **_Reuben, from iWin a Date._

**(6) **_Jonah, from iHate Sam's Boyfriend._

**(7) **_iSpeed Date. Seriously, if you didn't know the above three, you haven't been watching iCarly enough or haven't been obsessed with Seddie._

**(8) **_And now something for the Seddie fans._

**(9) **_Ditto._

_

* * *

_

Well, for those of you who have read the whole story, you know that everything DID work out alright. So, happy dreams for all. :)

Remember to leave a review on anything. ANYTHING AT ALL!

**- NUMBUH777**

_**[EDIT]: I have just fixed the numbers for the Author's notes. Obviously no one read them, but hey.**_


	6. iFUTURE: AN iCARLY ONESHOT

Happy 2010! A little late, I know, but better than never. How was your New Years? I apologise for not updating in about a month or two, but things have been hectic outside of cyberspace.

Some things to tell everyone first, though. I have decided to cancel my plans for '**iCompete for iCarly'**. This was not an easy decision to make, but with pressing committments and the lack of a workable plot, I had no option but to can it. That means, limegreenrocks, that your question is now moot. Sorry. :(

However, I also have some GOOD news. One of the reasons that I have been busy is because I have been participating in a 'Seddie Christmas Fanfic Exchange' over on the Bickering Sidekicks forum, which you canm find by going onto Google. Best iCarly forum ever. But yes, I was writing one for that as a secret Santa, and once I get the green-light, I'll post it right here for you guys to see! It's going to be great, I assure you.

This oneshot, however, has nothing to do with it. Basically, this is a short oneshot that I wrote for you guys as penance for not updating sooner. I've also posted it as a seperate story, for reasons that will become clear as you read. I really hope all of you enjoy this - I felt so guilty, it's even AU from the series: something I hate to do. If you do enjoy, please leave a message or a review. If you don't, leave one anyway. Basically, say whatever you want: Questions, comments, snide remarks - but please remember to R&R.

And now, sit back, relax, and enjoy the show, as we present:

_iFUTURE_ - _AN iCARLY ONESHOT_

* * *

_**Location: Seattle Community Park  
Time: 1730 Hours**_

If one were to have exited their house around this time of the day, they would have marvelled at the cool late afternoon breeze and the clear skies, broken only with several patches of clouds that provided some shade, and be thankful for such a perfect afternoon. One would also have not been surprised to find the streets largely empty of Seattle's youth population, due to the fact that most of them preferred to spend such a beautiful day inside playing games such as World of Warlocks on their Pear Products.

Thus, if that one were to pass by the park, they would have been surprised to discover that the park was not entirely deserted, but contained two individuals that definitely fit within the 'youth' range. One was seated upright on the benches, dressed in shorts and a hoodie that covered up a pink Penny-Tee that read '_Iguana Mozzarella_'. As the hood disguised all features, only the general shape of the person's figure and the pink shirt hinted that it was a girl. She was watching the second character, a brown-haired boy in running shorts, sneakers and a 'Seattle High' jersey pounding the running track.

That in itself was an unusual sight for those who knew the boy. Fredward 'Freddie' Benson, technical producer of the popular webshow iCarly, was known for his academic genius and technological prowess. Not his athletic ability or desire. In fact, because of his late entry into puberty, he had been punched, teased, given wedgies, and christened 'King of the Dorks', all by his best friend/worst enemy/co-host of iCarly, Samantha 'Sam' Puckett. He occasionally fenced, and ran only when he was either late for class or trying to avoid Sam.

But today's run was a much needed one, Freddie thought to himself as he sped on. Seattle High had an annual fitness test for gym class in a week that he needed to pass, lest he got held back a year. One of the parts of the test included completing a 2.4km run within twelve-and-a-half minutes. The problem was that he could barely make thirteen. So, to avoid failing gym and possibly earning himself some derisive comments from his teacher and classmates, he came here to practice. And already the last month of training had paid off. Freddie could now make twelve-forty easily, and it seemed that this last week would be enough to shave off the remaining seconds.

Freddie was rounding the track, observing the few trees beside the stadium and wondering why more people didn't come outside to enjoy nature, when, with a start of surprise, his eyes fell upon the girl sitting on the park bench opposite, watching him from far. Grinning as he recognised the hooded figure, the Benson boy gave a short wave. The girl waved back, causing him to grin all the more at his girlfriend.

Despite the three months and eleven days they had been dating, Freddie still found it hard to believe that they had got together, so much so that every romantic moment between them felt like a dream. He had been chasing after the titular host of their webshow, Carly, for so long, he was surprised when the girl of his dreams asked him out.

And he never looked back.

Of course, there were many who were just as surprised as he was. Spencer, Carly's older brother, nearly knocked over his sculpture of seventy-five snow globes in shock when he heard the news, because of course his sister hadn't told him. Mrs Benson, Freddie's neurotic, over-protective and occasionally insane mother, nearly fainted when she heard, because she was of the opinion that association with that female paramour had led to 'her little Fweddie-bear' sustaining multiple injuries, including one too painful for her to recall.

But that, Freddie argued to himself, was how his mother was like with all of Freddie's 'associations'.

As Freddie was now dating one of the iCarly hosts, the other had been convinced she was in an alternate universe when she was told the news first. After waking the girl from a near-dead faint by dumping a glass of water over her, she spent the whole day alternating between striding around, pinching herself, and muttering something that included the words 'aliens', 'time-warps' and 'impossible to believe'. But when all that was done, she sat them both down and asked Freddie's new girlfriend: "Since when did you love _Freddie_?"

Though Freddie could recall every single word of that answer, he didn't need to. His own feelings were enough. For he now had his perfect girl that he loved, and somehow, incredibly, she felt the same way.

Life could not be any better.

With a sharp burst of speed, iCarly's technical producer sped through his mark for the finishing line, stopping his timer on his watch/PearPod Nano as he did so. He grinned, panting for breath, as his girlfriend sauntered up to him, folding back her hood to reveal a cascade of brown hair.

"Twelve minutes, fifteen seconds." Freddie panted, gratefully accepting the water bottle that his brunette paramour handed to him. He took a swig as she spoke, casually tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear: "Looks like you'll be fine for the test on Monday."

Freddie smiled, looking at his perfect girl. "How long till the bet's over?" he asked.

The girl frowned for the first time. "Two more days. I can't wait. But enough of that. Time for a smoothie!"

Grinning, Freddie took her hand and led her towards _The_ _Groovy Smoothie _to buy some drinks. He glanced at her face and, despite her blushes, stared into her eyes, wondering again what good things he must have done in a former life, if karma existed, to deserve this.

He never told her this, but her eyes contained a spark that showed the unbridled energy and exuberance inside her. Her eyes were his favourite colour that, unlike her hair, could never be altered with dye. They would stay that colour forever.

Blue.

* * *

Well? Did you like it? I hope none of you flame me for the twist - that is just good writing.

Remember to leave a review!

_**- AGENT619**_


	7. iALARM: AN iCARLY ONESHOT

Good Day to all of you. My name is NUMBUH777, also known on occasion as AGENT619, and this is the State of My FanFiction address. If you have noticed, I have removed the first chapter of '_iSteal The Spotlight_' simply because the story itself was still not completed after a year, due to insane work schedules and a sudden slothness (is that a word?) in regards to writing. As such, it would not be fair to upload the story while it is still in the 'work in progress' stage and leave you all hanging. I do solemnly swear that it shall be uploaded once I get some spare time for myself and kick my lazy butt into action.

To all you former readers (obviously, as this has been sorely neglected for a long time), do not be disheartened. See, I bring you a gift! As a token of gratitude for reading and reviewing (insert emphasis here), here is a oneshot that I have written quite a long time ago. I submit it to you now as a show of good faith; that I shall endeavour to get '_iSteal The Spotlight_' done as soon as possible. Trust me, folks - it's **_real_** good. :)

This story is called 'iAlarm'. Read, enjoy, and **please** review. Whether it is to praise my life-transforming writing, condemn me for being extremely lazy and call me to arms, or just to comment about how crazy it is that superglue still works on a non-stick pan, please, just write me something. I promise I shall reply.

Now to the story!

_iAlarm - An iCarly Oneshot_

* * *

_**Location: The Shays' Apartment  
**__**Time: 0645 Hours**_

Breathing nervously, the brown-haired boy furtively glanced around the empty corridor outside Apartment 8C. Satisfied that no one was present to witness him, he unlocked the door with a spare key and gently and quietly eased it open inch by inch, taking the utmost care not to awake any of the slumbering residents within.

There was a simple explanation for all the secrecy and sneaking around. The boy was Freddie Benson, neighbour of the residents of Apartment 8C, Carly and Spencer Shay, as well as their best friend. The previous night had been a wild one – their popular webshow, iCarly, had reached its 3rd anniversary, and as such it was decided that a celebration was in order to properly…err…celebrate the historic milestone.

While Freddie, by his demeanour and popular opinion, was not the partying type, Carly and her older brother Spencer, as well as her BFF and co-host Sam Puckett had threw themselves into preparing for the party with an astonishing vigour. It was amazingly spectacular, one befitting the celebration of iCarly's anniversary.

At least, so he had heard.

Freddie had an early-Saturday-morning appointment with Principal Franklin regarding a discrepancy in the school's AV club funds – apparently one of its members had been utilising the money to purchase 16 bottles of Eucalyptus and Horseradish hair gel. As the president of the AV club, Freddie had to explain the misuse of funds, and as such he had taken his leave directly after the iCarly broadcast the previous night in order to be properly rested and to make the meeting on time.

Understandably, Freddie was annoyed that he had missed out. Checking his Splashpage News Feed this morning, he discovered that, among other things, he had missed out on seeing Spencer bungee-jump from his eight-storey window, two kids re-enact the knife-fight from Michael Jackson's 'Beat It' music video, and Sam devour an entire chicken in twenty seconds without using her hands.

On second thought, the last one probably wasn't one to see on a full stomach – or so he judged by the comments on Splashpage. They ranged from impressed to disgusted…the latter view being the more prevalent. But ultimately, neither the Shays, nor Sam, had gone to bed until 3 am.

Unfortunately for Freddie, he had left his PearPhone on the kitchen counter in the Shays' apartment. Even more unfortunate, he had set an alarm on that phone that was set to go off in five minutes. And Freddie knew that, if it went off and woke the Shays, it would not bode well for him. Carly would complain all day to Freddie, angry that her recovery time was cut short and that she would have a migraine all day. Spencer, despite being in his late twenties, would act like a little kid with a tantrum all day, demanding items of food and entertainment from the iCarly trio.

And Sam?

Freddie chuckled even more nervously.

Sam would make sure he was never found again.

So, for the good of his friends – and his own self-preservation – he had to shut off that alarm.

He checked his watch. One minute left. This was going to be close.

Holding his breath, Freddie opened the door just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Squinting through the darkened apartment to make sure the coast was clear, he cautiously entered, moving excruciatingly slowly in order not to make a sound.

Step.

Step.

Ste – wait. Listen.

Step.

He could see the dim outline of his phone on the kitchen table through the dim light filtering in through the curtains. Every step he took brought him a little closer to his goal.

Freddie checked his watch…and cursed.

He had five seconds left. In some detached corner of his brain, for reasons unknown he recalled his countdown at the beginning of every iCarly broadcast: "_In five…four…three…two…_"

And when the clock ticked to zero…

_Five._

Freddie couldn't think of any other option – he leapt towards the phone.

_Four._

With a thud, he hit his knee on the kitchen counter, giving himself a bruise and eliciting a bang that reverberated throughout the apartment. Thankfully, it was not loud enough to rouse anyone…or so he hoped.

_Three._

Freddie grabbed the phone, and, collapsed on the floor, typed in his password.

_Two._

He couldn't believe his eyes as a message flashed on the screen.

_ACCESS DENIED. PLEASE ENTER CORRECT PASSWORD._

_I must have mistyped it!_ Freddie swore.

There was not enough time to enter it in again and disable the alarm, nor was there enough time to get up and run outside. There was nothing he could do. Put simply, his time was up.

_One._

His eyes widened.

_Zero._

* * *

But there was no alarm. No blasting siren that would awake even the deepest of sleepers, or a cheesy Ginger Fox pop song that would make anyone who was not a teenage girl shudder. There was no sound at all.

Save for the quiet vibrating of Freddie's phone, still clutched in his hand.

The boy in question sighed in relief.

It was quite simple really. With a single second left, Freddie had just flicked a switch on the side of the phone, putting it on vibrate. Thus, the alarm, instead of playing the latest R&B hit 'Come A Little Closer', had merely vibrated.

A cough made Freddie raise his head in alarm, and he couldn't believe the sight he beheld. Sam Puckett was propped up on the couch, staring at him with a questioning look on her face. With a facepalm, Freddie remembered, too late, that not only was Sam sleeping over at Carly's apartment, she usually did so on Carly's couch in the living room.

Before he could say a word, a wicked grin appeared on Sam's face.

"You know, Frednub, I always knew you were a dork. Glad to see you're proving me right."

And without warning, she flourished her phone and quickly snapped a picture of Freddie splayed out on the floor.

Amid Sam's snickers, all Freddie could do was groan and drop his head in defeat.

_I wonder how long it'll take for me to live this one down…_

* * *

_New Story coming soon! ...As soon as I get into the writing flow again. :)_

_- NUMBUH777_


	8. iGET BANNED: AN EPILOGUE REVISED

Hi!

Unlike my earlier-posted chapter with the same title, this is a fully edited (with all my laughable skill) version of a short oneshot. As can be judged from the title, it is a hypothetical coda, finale, or epilogue from the episode **iGet Banned**, where this story gives a possible scenario of what happens after the episode's ending. I have taken the past week after I uploaded the earlier draft to edit and add in parts in this story, and I think that it is finally ready to be read in all its wordy glory.

If anyone demands changes due to factual inaccuracy, spelling or grammatical errors, the preference for the earlier rubbish draft, or just to mess with me, please PM me or leave a review and it shall be done.

Seriously, leave a review. Words mean that I am not alone.

Enough chatter. May I present to you: The story.

* * *

_**iGET BANNED - AN EPILOGUE  
**__**AN iCARLY ONESHOT**_

* * *

_**Location: Bushwell Plaza, Level 8  
**__**Time: 2130 hours**_

Bushwell Plaza had seen many strange and unusual things in its time. The World's Fattest Priest. A small kid superglued to the elevator doors. Twelve Male Swimsuit models and a ten-foot tall golden award statue. Whatever new and wacky situation Spencer Shay had gotten himself into that day. The list goes on. So, it wouldn't have been much of a shock for the residents of Bushwell Plaza to see two girls and a large boy wrestle a limp body out of the elevator and lug him along the corridor.

Freddie Benson, the technical producer of iCarly and currently unconscious, had, along with his friend Gibby, attempted to hit on girls while pretending that both of them were in a band. Surprisingly, it had worked – that is, until Samantha 'Sam' Puckett, blonde co-host of internationally famous comic webshow iCarly and his best friend / enemy / ex-girlfriend / two-time winner of the Seattle Soda chugging contest discovered his tenous web of lies and decided to have a little fun of her own.

Live on the internet, Sam informed the world that Freddie and Gibby, now known as 'The Floors' thanks to some 'inspired' naming, would be performing their first gig and invited everyone to come and watch. Surely two members of the iCarly gang would be extremely talented and would be able to rock the crowd, right?

Nope.

As Freddie knew that his gifts and talents lay solely out of the musical area (Carly would later say that his singing, not winter, was the reason that birds migrated) and that Gibby wasn't much better, and also to avoid mass embarassment at the hands of his oft-tormentor, he devised a cunning plan to avoid it. Mainly, he and Gibby would get into a fake argument, and then the latter would throw a punch to which he would duck at a preset trigger phrase. They would then storm off, never playing and never receiving humiliation. It was foolproof.

But you know what they say about foolproof plans. There's always a better fool.

Gibby had misunderstood the plan right from the start, and messed up his lines so badly that drama teachers all over America started twitching. In the end, the inevitable conclusion occurred – Freddie was knocked out by Gibby's punch, and now Carly, Sam and Gibby were carrying him home.

"Are you kidding me?!" Sam grunted out loud, supporting the unconscious boy with unusual strength. "Has the nerd been eating concrete slabs for dinner?"

"Don't even joke about dinner in his household, Sam," answered Carly Shay with a grimace. "His mother makes us _**weigh**_ the food!"

Sam gave her best friend a questioning look. "What's so bad about that?"

"She makes us weigh the food before…and after."

Simultaneously, both girls shuddered.

"You know," Gibby interjected in his usual cheery voice, "sometimes I like to weigh myself before and after I take a shower. I think the water is actually being absorbed by my skin, and one day I'll absorb so much water that I'll turn into a hot Gibby bottle -"

"Shut up!" came the response from both girls, just as they arrived at the Benson's apartment. Apartment 8D.

"Does anyone have a key?" piped up Gibby again, elicitating annoyed groans from the other two. Before he could continue, or before Carly went into her house to grab the spare key, iCarly's blonde co-host had, while still supporting her end of the dead weight, kicked the bottom of the doorknob with the heel of her shoe, earning a soft _click_ and a door that was now unlocked and slowly swinging open.

Sam grinned at the sight of the other two's bemused looks. "Cheap locks," was all she said, pulling the unconscious Freddie into the darkened apartment and depositing him unceremoniously on the sofa.

Heaving a sigh of relief at the fulfillment of their heavy task, the trio stood around the crumped heap of an unconscious boy, unsure of their next step.

"Well, I'm going to go get some ice for poor Freddie's head," Carly said, stepping towards the refrigerator. "I'm going to go watch some TV." Gibby added, oblivious to the gravity of the situation and the result of his punch. Both were met with an authoritarian "STOP!" from an unlikely source. The two halted in their steps and flashed surprised looks at Sam, standing arms akimbo and giving what appeared to be half-glares at them.

"You guys go home. I'll take it from here," iCarly's co-host told them in clipped tones, waving her hand towards the door. Hesitating, Carly opened her mouth to ask why before Sam beat her to the punch.

"Carly, think about the fact that, to win your bet with T-Bo, you only had to "stay all night" at the Benson apartment for your bet – you actually won since you left in the morning. Gibby, you've already punched out Freddie tonight. You go home too before you…or I…cause more damage."

The other two traded glances.

Sam took a step forward, her tone becoming much stonier. "Shay. Gibson. Out. Benson and I have _**a lot**_ to talk about." So saying, she motioned towards the door again. Both Carly and Gibby wisely decised to take their leave, mumbling their goodbyes before hurridly exiting the apartment in the face of an unusually austere Sam. And as the door shut behind them, the Puckett girl turned to gaze at the unconscious body of iCarly's technical producer, her classmate, and her ex-boyfriend.

* * *

"You can wake up now, Freddie. They've gone."

No response.

'_It was worth a try,'_ Sam shrugged. She strode over to Freddie and, grasping his shoulder, tried to shake him awake. Sam was starting to get concerned – after all, she knew that Gibby was a practised kick-boxer. One punch could easily have knocked Freddie out. Which, incidentally, it did. The thing was, it could also have given him a concussion or permanent brain damage. And as Sam flopped down on the sofa next to Freddie, she began to feel anxious. So she did the one thing that she knew could wake even the long-dead-and-buried. She took off her shoes.

Thirty seconds later, Freddie began to stir, and then began to gag at the foul odour emenating from his ex-girlfriend's feet. Raising himself to a half-sitting position, his eyes searched wildly for the source of the strange smell before it landed on the blonde girl sitting opposite him.

"Sam," Freddie whispered woozily as he collasped back on the sofa, somehow managing to convey recognition, comfort, annoyance, accusation and confusion into a single syllable. The girl in question didn't hesitate. Leaning in close enough to Freddie's face for him to feel her every breath, she proceeded to yell.

"What in blue chizz was that all about, Benson?!"

To Freddie's credit, he didn't jump in surprise at Sam's close proximity to him nor at the loudness of her voice, which was a good thing since doing so would have upended the blonde sidekick onto the floor, resulting in temporary pain for Sam and additional pain for Freddie. Thankfully for the latter, and possibly due to the fact that he was still woozy, Freddie didn't react at all, save to murmur, "Another Freddie Benson master plan playing out to its inevitable conclusion."

A moment passed, with both of them staring into the eyes of the other. Then Sam became aware of the...intimate...position between them, and leapt away with a light blush on her cheeks, muttering something intelligible under her breath.

Freddie, having just floated back to the land of consciousness, didn't see it, of course. He had closed his eyes, thankful for the sudden quiet, but was surprised and his eyes quickly flew open again when an ice pack flew across the room and scored a solid hit on his chest.

"Oww! Sam!"

"Oh, grow up, you big baby," came the nonchalant reply as Sam plopped down onto the sofa again. Glaring, Freddie lifted the ice pack to his sore face. For a long time, neither of them spoke; Freddie continued to ice his face while Sam stared out into space with eyes glazed over. The former finally decided to break the silence.

"So," the technical producer of iCarly asked hesitantly, "Gibby told you what happened, right?"

Sam slowly nodded, still staring at a spot in the opposite wall. Freddie seemed about to go on before he was struck by a thought. "Hold up, where's my mother? Please don't tell me she's waiting in the corridor with her giant first-aid kit and enough bandages to envelop this half of Seattle!"

A slight grin appeared at the corner of Sam's mouth. "Carly called her before we carried you up here. Told her there was a sale on at the Worldwide Pill Emporium. Pills popping like crazy. She was out of here in a flash."

Freddie had to smile too. "But what happens when she arrives and finds out that there is no sale?"

"Carly thought of that as well," came the reply. "She told your mother that the sale was only on for the next fifteen minutes. She'll have to drive at 300 mph just to get there when the doors shut!"

The two teens chuckled for a minute. Before long, the mood turned somber again.

"Thanks Sam...and help me thank the others too." Freddie said. The Puckett girl nodded, then turned to face Freddie full on. "Tell me Benson...why did you do it?"

"Umm...do what?"

Sam impatiently blew an errant strand of hair out of her eyes. "The whole fake band thing! The plan with Gibby! You getting punched! Why in blazes would you do something like this?!"

Freddie pushed himself up, glaring at Sam again. "I was only trying to get out of the deliberate mess you got Gibby and I into! And thanks for putting us into that position anyway. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I don't know, Benson," came the sarcastic reply. "Not lie and make a fool of yourself in the first place? Admit to everyone that you weren't in a band after all? Or perhaps if you were using your brain, you could have used backing tracks and a voice and pitch correctional program like autotune to get away with it!"

Freddie blanched inwardly at the realisation of such a simpler and more elegant solution than his fake fight with Gibby. He wasn't going to let it show, though, and have Sam score a metaphorical point. Instead, he turned the conversation back to his blonde nemesis. "Why would you even put me in that position in the first place? What, were you jealous?"

Now it was Sam's turn to be shocked. ""Jealous?!" she spluttered. "Are you kidding me? Since when did I need a reason to mess with you, Benson?"

"And that's the problem!" the brown-haired boy cried back, involuntarily moving forward and his face mere inches away from the blonde. "You always keep on messing with me! You got me fired from the Pear Store! You even fed my homework to your mangy cat! Heck, it's like you don't care about me at all, Sam! _**Do**_ you even care?!"

Sam jerked her head back as if struck, and in a way, she had been. Her face drained of all colour and she collasped back on the sofa and in that horrible instant Freddie Benson knew that he had gone too far.

"S-Sam, I…"

"I do care."

The three words, softly spoken, caused Freddie's eyes to fly open and his attention to be firmly back upon his guest. It could have been the softness of the remarks, it could have been the sadness in the tone, but mostly it was the fact that those three syllables were formed as a statement but spoken as if it was a question.

The unspoken question: _Do I care?_

"Sam, of course you c-"

"I KNOW I CARE!" Sam unexpectedly bellowed, causing the Benson boy to jump in surprise. "After you got fired from the Pear Store, I quit immediately! After you got punched, I was the first to run to you to see if you were all right! I was the one who convinced Carly and Gibby to carry you up now instead of waiting for Spencer and a gurney, while the others sipped Pina Cola Smoothies from a double-trouble-sized cup! What kind of person would do all these and more if she doesn't care?!"

Freddie was stunned by Sam's tirade, not knowing that she had done many things to help him. But -

"But I got you fired from your job," unconsciously, Sam spoke Freddie's thoughts aloud as she continued in a much softer tone, tired and barely audible at all, "I deliberately forced you to play in front of tens of people, just to embarrass you. And worse of all, the whole thing led to you getting punched. _**I**_got you punched and knocked out unconsious in public. What kind of person am I, whose friend freely admits doesn't care about others? Is it really caring for your friends if the things that you do put them in that position in the first place? Is it caring – if all you do is hurt those around you?"

And so saying, Sam turned away. She seemed to withdraw into herself, shutting herself down, cutting herself off. Freddie tried to call her name, but there was no response. His golden-haired ex-girlfriend continued to stare blankly out into space, her countenance ashen and for all intents and purposes, she was no more than a living statue. And it freaked the hell out of him. He had never seen the bubbly troublemaker like this before, and Freddie didn't know what to do.

So, he talked.

"Sam?"

Still no response. Sighing, Freddie carried on, voice humble, markedly different from a few minutes ago. "You wanted to know why I would do something like this? Throw caution to the wind and put on an act? Let me tell you the truth right now – I have absolutely no idea why I did so."

The Benson boy chuckled bitterly and, reflexively running his hand through his hair, he continued. "All my life, I was always cautious, you know? Playing the odds, preparing months in advance, always taking the safer option. And the one time that I decided to take a leap of faith…" He trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence. Both of them knew what he was referring to, and they both thought they were each insane.

Coughing, Freddie went on. "Perhaps I thought that if I did something that everyone thought was stupid and insane, things might work out as well as before."

Freddie closed his eyes briefly, thinking about the events of the past few days. He was an idiot, he knew. His mother, while neurotic and overprotective, had also raised him with precious values. One was to bring gifts whenever you visited someone's house. Another was to always flush the toilet thrice. But the most important one was to always be honest with others. And while he hadn't been honest with the two random girls (_Man, what are their names again? Bethany? Madison? Robyn? Sally-Ann?_), at least he could be honest here –

"I wanted things to be back to the way it used to be," Sam interposed softly, her voice barely a whisper but seemingly getting stronger. "Just the two of us, messing around with each other, sparring verbally and just having fun. The pranks were a part of that. But it kinda seems that we don't talk anymore, do we?"

"Yeah." Freddie agreed. "I miss this, you know," he motioned to the both of them, sitting opposite each other, "and I think that you have too." The brown-haired boy coughed. "And for what it's worth, Sam – I was wrong. You do care. And I'm sorry for not saying it sooner."

Sam smiled, a small but genuine smile creasing her face for a moment. Then it faltered, and the blonde iCarly co-host looked slightly guilty. "And I'm sorry for, you know," she motioned at Freddie's injury.

iCarly's technical producer nodded and grinned. "It's alright. I don't even feel it."

"Liar."

"Blonde Devil."

"Nub."

The two traded jocular grins at the familiar scene for a moment before Sam got up, her mischievious grin back on her face and no trace of her earlier sadness. "Alright, Fredwardian, Mama has to go," she said.

Freddie nodded, used to Sam's random and often enough, creative nicknames. "Thanks for the ice pack and for getting me up here, Puckett."

Sam waved a hand in acknowledgement and strode towards the door. As her hand was on the doorknob, however, Freddie spoke up. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?"

Freddie Benson turned himself to face her, as she him. "So, are we best frenemies again?"

A million possible responses flew through her mind. Sam took the moment to stare into Freddie's eyes. Despite the pranks they pulled on each other, and the many ways they both seemed to frustrate the other, Sam knew that tonight's conversation cut through the walls both of them put up and allowed them to be honest with the other. The blonde troublemaker and the brown-haired nerd gazed at each other, remembering the past, living in the present, and hoping for the future in their own unique way.

She smiled, an unusually warm and soft smile.

"When were we ever not?"

* * *

**_New Story coming soon. Seriously. Possibly. I hope._**

**_Leave a comment! Review! Say SOMETHING!_**

**_- NUMBUH777_**


	9. iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT: PART 1

Hi there! Ni Hao!

So, I promised you guys a new multi-chaptered story weeks ago. I told everyone that I was working on it months ago. I swore that it would be posted years ago. And it still hasn't been done.

Until now.

This story was one that I have been 'working on' for nigh on 2 years now - not because it was complex, or difficult, or that I had no resources of my own - I was just busy doing other things, and it kinda got kicked to the curb. Now, however, as iCarly is coming to a lamentable end, I feel that I should post this in iCarly's twilight hours (weeks) to commemorate the end of an era. An era that was mostly Seddie. (Take that!)

This fic will be posted over the weeks to come, culminating on both the series finale of iCarly and the New Year. My present to you readers and reviewers, if you will.

And now, it's reviewer answer time!

**Mike2101: **Glad that you enjoyed it! Yes, I really think that Sam would have shown a rather fierce side when she's not getting what she wants. Oh, and the part about Sam caring - she's trying to reconcile the two different sides of herself, one where she thinks she cares and one where others perceive she doesn't. Is it really caring if she's the one who puts Freddie in the situation in the first place?

**IgnaLovesPancake: **Thanks for your review! I really appreciate it. Yes, I really do try to make the fics as realistic as possible, and by your review, it seems that I got it spot on! Thanks again, and I shall indeed try to write at such a standard for your, and others', enjoyment. :)

Want to see your name on the intro to the fic? Then leave a review! My heart will grow three sizes once that happens. Let's see if we can make it explode out of my chest that way, shall we?

Here's to the story! Buckle up kids, and prepare to enjoy:

* * *

**_iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT - AN iCARLY FANFIC_**

* * *

**_Location: The Shays' Apartment  
_****_Time: 1645 hours_**

Life in Apartment 8C was never dull – at least that was the opinion of nearly everyone who entered it. Apartment 8C had seen the malfunctioning of both the service elevator and a mechanical bull (no connection), several large parties, including an impromptu gathering during Seattle's hottest summer day, an interestingly-named 'karma party', a fight between a mother and her daughter that had led to an unplanned and violent rearranging of the furniture, and many more situations besides. Quite famously, the apartment was also the site of the world-renowned comedy webshow, iCarly.

Unusually, the apartment itself was currently bereft of any craziness. The only noise to be heard was the sound of cars zooming past outside, the honking of car horns, the shrill voice of a street vendor hawking the sale of half-off cargo pants, and the clumping of footsteps as a brunette teenager slowly descended the steps, her ear pressed to the phone as she listened to the voice through the speakers.

The titular host of iCarly herself, seventeen-year-old Carly Shay, sat herself down on a swivel high-chair at the kitchen counter, still engrossed in her telephone conversation. To anyone who was listening to only Carly's side of it, it would be incomprehensible. To anyone who was listening to both sides, it would still have been hard to follow.

"No way, really?" Carly exclaimed. "I understand the chocolate milk, maybe the carrots…..but why was he carrying the bag of chipped marble and bubble wrap?...No Wendy, I don't understand the workings of the Gibby mind either…So, the assignment's from page four to sixteen? Thanks, Wendy."

Hanging up the phone and making a note to herself on a convenient notepad, Carly spun herself around in the swivel high-chair and took a moment to reflect on the unusual quiet in the apartment. Usually, hardly a minute would go by without something weird or noisy, or both, happening to her. This, however, was nice. It was peaceful, serene.

That moment lasted for another three seconds before it was rudely broken with frantic yells of "Carly! Carly! _Car-lee_!" Seconds later, Carly's tall and gangly twenty-six year old brother Spencer emerged from his room, waving two toothbrushes with both hands with the same energy as an airport signalman on steroids. Leaping the length of the living room in three bounds, he brandished both toothbrushes in front of his sister's face.

"Hey Carls." Spencer began, his tone hilariously normal in contrast with his earlier energy. "Which toothbrush should I bring?"

The younger Shay, all too familiar with her brother's randomness, merely replied blandly, "Toothbrush?"

Spencer's face took on a hurt look. "Yeah, toothbrush! I can't decide which one to take on our trip! I mean, this one," he held up the one in his right hand, "this one has lights that flash when you use it. But THIS one," Spencer held up the other, "This one has barnyard animal sounds to listen to while you brush! Listen!" he gabbled excitedly, pressing a button on the brush and filling the room with sounds of pigs, cows and chickens. "So? Which one should I take?"

Carly sighed, smiling at her big brother's antics. "You know," she mock-scolded, "it was actually quiet in here before you ran out shouting about toothbrushes."

"Well, where would be the fun in that, lil' sis?" Spencer grinned, ruffling Carly's hair and causing her to squeal in protest. "By the way, Carls," Spencer went on, "you all packed?"

Nodding while trying to fix her hair, Carly motioned to her right. "Yeah, my stuff's over there. You?"

"Just about." Spencer answered, following Carly's pointed finger, and eyes opening wide at what he saw. "Carly, you know we're only going for two days, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Then why do you have six huge bags filled to the brim with clothes?"

"Well…maybe because I need it!" Carly snapped back, defensive. "Never question a girl about her clothes, Spencer! Don't you have toothbrushes to play with?"

Before Spencer could muster up a witty retort (which, oddly enough, had something to do with a past incident involving squash and a news report about Bigfoot) or continue badgering his sister about his toothbrush dilemma, the main door banged open and two teenagers entered, both clutching smoothies and bickering loudly with each other.

Carly sighed again, used to both teenagers' behaviour around each other as well. Her best friends Samantha 'Sam' Puckett, the co-host of iCarly, and Fredward 'Freddie' Benson, Carly's neighbour and iCarly's technical producer, both argued over the most inane subjects and took most opportunities to insult the other. Yet she both knew that all three of them were inseparable, and despite all their quirks, faults and the two's almost daily arguments, she enjoyed their company. So, the fact that both of them had burst into her house, taken up temporary residence there, helped themselves to her food and drink, and all the while not breaking once in their argument, was to be tolerated. Heck, it was the norm.

"Sam, for the last time, I HAVE to win that competition. The A.V. club rules require me to have one piece of new technology a year – "

"Who even cares about the dork club rules anyway?"

"- and since you stole my entire month's allowance and spent it on cotton candy – "

"It was 100% cotton!"

"- I have to win that new PearPad Mini in order to stay in the A.V. Club!"

"You know what else is 'mini'? Your chances of living till tomorrow, Freddork!"

"That $200 Australian Outback Spectacular voucher isn't even worth it, Sam!"

"Well, maybe if I go and have all the meat I ever want in a single night, I won't have to steal your pocket money next time!"

"Oh, _yeah right!_ You must think my _brain_ is 'mini'!"

"Wow, dorkwad – I've been telling you that ever since we met!"

Unexpectedly, a loud "A-HEM!" cut through the argument. Carly had made a throat-clearing noise to interrupt the teens. Both Sam and Freddie turned to face her.

"Oh, hey Carly." Freddie greeted.

"'Sup, Carls." Sam added.

And then they both turned back to each other and continued arguing.

"If you think my brain is 'mini', then why do you steal my history homework every week?"

"Because Carly won't let me copy hers, and yours – "

The bickering sidekicks both suddenly paused simultaneously, turning and staring at Carly's big pile of bags in the kitchen. They were even more surprised when Spencer exited his room lugging a duffel bag, which he dumped onto the pile as well before dashing back to his room, presumably to get more items.

"Was it something I said?" Sam deadpanned, while she and Freddie still courted confused looks upon their faces.

"No," Carly grinned at the joke. "Both of us are going to the Schneider Exhibition Centre. It's about fifty miles from here – that's why we have all the bags." She cocked her head to the side. "I told you guys yesterday, and thrice two days ago!"

Freddie tried to dredge through the muddle of memories from the last few days. "Sorry Carly, if you did, I must have forgotten," he answered sheepishly.

"I….must have been asleep." Sam piped up unapologetically, flopping herself down on the nearby armchair and sipping her smoothie.

Carly sighed in exasperation. "Well," she started, "Spencer got invited to this huge art exhibition thanks to some really loaded person who really liked his sculptures. He's going there to give a few speeches on his techniques. Since it's quite far from here, we're going to be staying at a hotel for two days. Socko lent us his minivan and it's coming in fifteen minutes."

Both her listeners stared. All that was said in a single breath.

"Why are _you_ going, then?" Sam asked, pointing at Carly with her smoothie straw.

Carly grinned. "Because the organisers heard about Spencer's many mishaps, and asked him to bring along a responsible guardian. They heard I was Carly from iCarly, and said I would be good enough."

Freddie grimaced. "Sounds like loads of fun, looking at lots of boring art and babysitting Spencer."

"I HEARD THAT!" came a shout from Spencer's bedroom. Freddie jumped in surprise, looking guilty. "I didn't mean it!" Freddie yelled back.

"He meant every word!" Sam added, grinning wickedly at Freddie.

Carly could see that Freddie was about to begin arguing again and so she quickly jumped in. "So, what are both of you going to do while I'm gone?"

Freddie immediately answered. "Well, you know that fundraising event the school is holding this week?"

Carly nodded slowly. "The one that's raising money for spider flu?"

"Yeah!" Freddie confirmed. "The one who raises the most gets a PearPad Mini, or a $200 voucher to the Australian Outback Spectacular."

"Is spider flu even a real sickness?" Sam lazily interrupted.

Freddie glared at the blonde girl in the armchair sucking down the last remnants of her smoothie. "I have to win that PearPad to stay in the A.V. Club, and Sam just wants more free meat!"

"Well, haven't you already raised more money than her?" Carly hastily jumped in.

Before Freddie could answer, Sam piped up. "Well, Mama has some skills, Carls. So I have about $30 more than Fredster over here. Which is why the little nub is jealous."

"What do you mean, jealous?!" Freddie retorted.

Carly face-palmed as the argument began anew. Thankfully, before Freddie could call out Sam's uncouth eating habits, or Sam Freddie's odd daily routine of ensuring that his toothpaste covers exactly 80% of his toothbrush, Spencer came hurtling out of his room yelling that Socko was downstairs and that it was time to leave.

Carly could see in Sam and Freddie's eyes that the argument was but postponed as she said her goodbyes – to Freddie (keep the iCarly website up and running, and good luck for the science exam tomorrow), to Sam (do your homework, and don't break our apartment and eat us out of house and home), and once more to both of them (don't kill each other, see you both Thursday night) for good measure.

As the minivan pulled away from Bushwell Plaza, Carly turned to wave goodbye to the two teenagers. She could only hope that both of them would work this problem out by themselves. Carly had bigger fish to fry, namely, keeping her big brother out of trouble.

"Spencer! You drive on the right, remember?!"

* * *

**Leave me a review, PM, or graffiti outside my door and tell me what you think!**

**_- NUMBUH777_  
**


	10. iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT: PART 2

I am depressed.

Not because of the fact that I only got one review since the last post. Not because of the fact that I was forced to work on a Saturday. No, it was all because of the iCarly finale, iGoodbye.

It could be because the story didn't feel like a series finale at all, but rather like a regular episode with supplemental storylines that had no relation to the end of iCarly at all (seriously, Gibby with a fake head and a weasel? So what?). It could be because the episode felt rushed, that they only gave 25% of the episode to the fact that Carly was leaving, and that leaving in itself was ludicrously settled upon. It also could have been because there was no real resolution of the Seddie vs. Creddie ships, merely bones thrown to us in the form of 2 scenes that did nothing but make the entire iCarly fanbase furious (for a more detailed analysis, see the Bickering Sidekicks iCarly forum).

The episode was heart-wrenchingly touching, but for the above things. And that ruined it for me. Of course, that is just my opinion, and if anyone wants to educate me on why I am wrong, please leave a comment.

iCarly is dead. Long live Sam & Cat...if it gets green-lighted, of course.

This story will continue to get posted, of course. I will be updating this until the end of the year, where I shall round this collection off with a oneshot for New Years. Prepare for it!

In the meantime, I would like to give a shout out to my only reviewer since the last chapter, **Kezziexx**. Thank you for your kind words, and I _will_ indeed keep it up to the best of my abilities. Thanks again.

iCarly was fun while it lasted. Seddiers, we shall never die.

* * *

**iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT: PART 2**

* * *

**_Location: Highway Z17  
_****_Time: 0645 hours_**

Carly yawned.

The brunette girl was definitely not feeling one hundred percent at the moment. She was groggy, tired and annoyed. Despite the fact that Carly usually awoke earlier than this on normal school days, she never had to contend with sharing a room with her older, yet seemingly less mature brother.

Carly recalled hour after hour of Spencer constantly jumping out of bed and (noisily) heading to the bathroom, the only explanation being given was that his chocolate milkshake from lunch was making an encore appearance. After about three hours, Spencer finally stopped leaving his bed….and began tossing and turning for the next hour in a bid to find the most comfortable spot. He ceased his movement only after Carly threatened to sabotage his underwear with industrial-grade itching powder, but then began snoring loud enough to rattle the furniture in a never-before-seen display of hotel room acoustics.

It kept her awake for most of the night.

iCarly's titular host grimaced as a tiny stab of pain shot up through her skull. Grabbing some aspirin, she washed it down with some extra-strength Peppy Cola to give her an energy boost to get through the day. As she put it back in the cup-holder, she turned and gave her brother a glare.

Spencer looked apologetic. "Look, Carls, I already said I'm sorry. I've always been snoring loudly ever since that hedgehog crawled in my sleeping bag and –"

"Alright!" Carly interrupted, too tired to have the story go on any further. She gave her brother a weak smile. "Let's just get this over with."

"M'okay!" her brother yelled excitedly, not noticing that Carly grimaced again. He revved the car for good measure and sped on his way.

Carly massaged her temples. It was going to be a long day….

* * *

**_Location: The Schneider Exhibition Centre, Gallery Room G  
_****_Time: 0745 hours_**

Carly Shay, with arms laden with art supplies and several rolls of toilet paper, manoeuvred her way through the large double doors from the main lobby. She dumped them unceremoniously onto the stage and sat down on it herself, taking a moment to glance around the room. There was nothing special, a stage that was curtained off and some chairs. By all standards, it was relatively small, almost like the room used for press conferences. The brunette had flashbacks to the room that the iCarly trio were in during the last Webicon and shuddered at the memories of the infamous fan war.

Turning to the door she just entered, Carly yelled, "Spencer!" in a bid to hurry her brother to get the setup done as quickly as possible. A few seconds later, her lanky brother barged through the door with a pushcart full of more art supplies. Oddly enough, Carly spotted several toilet plungers and an electric toaster in that cart. She could have also sworn that she saw something moving in there. However, knowing her brother's wild and wacky sculptures, she decided not to ask.

Spencer had collapsed into a nearby chair, breathing heavily and clearly exhausted. "Man!" he gasped, wiping sweat off his brow. "That cart was weighty! I must have pushed that," he gestured at the heavily-laden cart, "for like, fifty miles!"

His sister looked at him, unimpressed. "Spencer, we've only _been_ walking for three minutes. You," Carly continued, giving him a playful shove, "need to start exercising."

Ignoring the pained look on her brother's face and his faux-pitiful groans, Carly swung around in surprise when the double doors swung open and a well-suited man strode in. Tall, pompous, and with immaculately slicked-back hair, he carried himself with the air of one who is in authority and who is used to being in control. It was obvious to everyone that he was in charge of this event.

Spencer leapt to his feet, his earlier fatigue forgotten. "Hey there!" he greeted cheerfully. "I'm Spencer Shay, and I'm really grateful for the opportunity t-"

The man rudely brushed him aside without so much as a sideways glance before his gaze fell on Carly. Instantly, his face was all smiles. Grasping Carly's hand, he shook it repeatedly as he blurted out, "Miss Shay! Thank you so much for coming! I'm Ash Morgan, Exhibition Manager, and it's so good of you to do this for our humble exhibition centre free of charge. This is such a tremendous occasion – "

"Do _what _free of charge?" Carly interrupted, looking confused.

Releasing Carly's hand, Mr Morgan took a step back and hit a button on a nearby wall panel. The curtains on the stage slowly pulled back to reveal not the special arrangement of sculptures and whiteboards that Spencer was supposed to exhibit, but rather, monitors showing clips from iCarly with promotional posters of the trio. There was even a huge iCarly sign that was lit up with neon lights.

Saying that both Shays were shocked would be putting it mildly. Both of them were flabbergasted. Carly was the first to recover. "I-I thought this exhibition was to exhibit Spencer's artwork?"

"Yeah!" Spencer added.

Mr Morgan merely smiled. "Truthfully, the gallery board and I had no time for Mr Shay's," he motioned with air quotation marks, "'_art'_. No, the _real_ draw is to have iCarly's own Carly Shay here to give a talk and field questions with your fans for today and tomorrow morning! Your brother's exhibition was merely a…little untruth…to get you to come. The gallery is going to be packed, we'll all make a lot of money, and I'll finally have enough to buy that pony I've always wanted!" The Exhibition Manager finished his speech with a smug grin.

The elder Shay was the first to reply. "Wait…then what did you do with all the sculptures I sent over last week to be set up in advance?"

"Oh, they're somewhere in the back room." Mr Morgan answered. Seeing Spencer sighing in relief, saying, "Oh, thank goodness they're safe", Mr Morgan clarified his earlier statement with an "Actually, they're in the garbage room. Garbage Truck leaves in ten minutes."

At that, Spencer yelped and dashed out, yelling, "Stop that truck!" at the top of his lungs and waving his hands wildly.

While Mr Morgan was watching the spectacle with a raised eyebrow, Carly was not one to be distracted by her brother's antics. "That is a dirty trick," she said, clearly annoyed.

"No way!" Mr Morgan turned back to the brunette girl, a wounded look on his face. "The truck actually leaves in five minutes. I just tried to give him some hope."

iCarly's titular host was not amused. "I meant, the whole scam to bring me here in the first place. Once Spencer gets his sculptures back, we're both out of here."

The Exhibition Manager's demeanour instantly softened as he took a step forward, his tone tinged with sincerity. "Try to look at it this way, Miss Shay. Not only will this bring great publicity to the Gallery, but this will bring publicity to as well! Plus, I also asked some writers from the _Webs and Shows_ Magazine to come – apparently they're interested in doing an article on the host of iCarly...?" The hint was strongly evident.

Carly wavered. _After all_, she reasoned to herself, _iCarly can always use the extra publicity…and the magazine article wouldn't hurt either…_"

The younger Shay nodded slowly. "Fine," she growled. "But _only_ for one day."

"And tomorrow morning?"

"Yes!" came the exasperated reply. "But that's it!"

"Of course! Of course!" Mr Morgan grinned, clapping his hands together. For a moment, Carly thought she saw a hint of smugness behind his delight. But that moment was lost as Mr Morgan strode to the double doors and threw them open, allowing a human deluge of screaming iCarly fans to enter. That moment was replaced with the blinding lights of camera flashes and teenagers crying her name, and her earlier misgivings about Spencer and Mr Morgan disappearing as she waved at her fans.

_Perhaps this exhibition might be fun after all…_

* * *

**_Location: Ridgeway High School  
_****_Time: 1230 hours_**

Moving stealthily, Freddie Benson opened his locker and replaced his history books inside. Glancing around furtively, he removed a Tupperware box from the top shelf with the same care as a bomb disposal expert. Inside was a prize that was of more value to him at the moment than all the PearPad Minis in Hoboken. His lunch today was a Ham & Cabbage sandwich, and with meat-loving Sam's near-superhuman powers of meat detection, it wouldn't be long before the feisty blonde would appear and rob him of his delicious lunch. But, as Freddie took out his lunchbox, he noticed something strange: Sam didn't appear. And he looked around the school halls, he noticed that, despite it being lunchtime, the halls were unusually quiet and empty of the typical noisily loafing students enjoying their own lunch.

_Very strange…_ Freddie wondered. _There has to be an explanation…_

Glancing at the Tupperware container in his hand, he also noticed that it felt oddly lighter than usual. He opened it and sighed at its lack of contents. The sandwich was gone; all that was left were a few crumbs, and a note: _Better luck next time, Freddork. Hate, Sam._

"Well, that explains why Sam isn't here…" Freddie muttered, chucking the empty container back into his locker and slamming the door shut in a fit of annoyance. He took a deep breath to calm himself. While that solved one mystery, that still left the question of why no one else was here either. Then, almost as if on cue, he heard a faint noise from outside the school – the excited rabble of a crowd of students. Curious, Freddie made his way down the hallway, through the double doors of the entrance and stepped onto the parking lot. And there, what he saw stunned him into an open-mouthed silence.

There, before his eyes, were the majority of the Ridgeway senior student body wielding dangerous implements such as sledgehammers, crowbars, baseball bats and so on. Freddie even caught sight of a hockey stick being hefted by a particularly stocky-looking tough. But what really stunned him weren't the crowds of people, nor the weapons they were carrying. It was the fact that they were swinging them with gusto at a nearby car, smashing the windows, doors, roof and every other exposed part of the vehicle before taking a step back and letting someone else take their place.

"Sam." The Benson boy growled, perceptive enough to know that, wherever such wanton acts of vandalism were taking place, there was a near probable chance that the Puckett child was behind it. And sure enough, Freddie spotted the blonde girl herself seated behind a flimsy table, accepting money from the students in return for the loan of a weapon. Setting his jaw, Freddie marched forward, grabbed Sam by the upper arm and, despite her protests, hauled her over to a more secluded area of the car park.

"Sam, what in the name of platypi are you doing?" Freddie asked.

The co-host of iCarly cocked an eyebrow, giving Freddie a condescending look that questioned his intelligence. "Ever heard of a good ol' fashioned car smash, Benson? People pay you money to smash a car to teeny little pieces." She held up her thumb and index finger a millimetre apart in front of Freddie's face to emphasise 'teeny'.

Batting Sam's hand away in annoyance, Freddie jerked his thumb at the bashed vehicle behind him. "How did you get a car for them to smash?" he shot back.

Sam shrugged. "Easy. It's Miss Briggs's car."

Freddie blanched, eyes growing wide. "Miss Briggs, our teacher?"

"No, Miss Briggs, the Slovakian ballet dancer with the pet unicorn," came the sarcastic response back. "Of course Miss Briggs our teacher, doofus! I just….didn't tell her that her car was going to be volunteered."

By now, Freddie's eyes were wider than satellite dishes. "You know that if she catches you, you'll be expelled, hung, drawn, quartered, and keelhauled, right?! And all at the same time, too!"

"Keelhauled?" Sam looked puzzled for a second.

Freddie's face took on an annoyed look. "My point is, Sam," he continued, "Perhaps our talents are better used … _in combination_ with each others'."

Sam's blank face was answer enough. Sighing, Freddie went on. "While we spend the whole time arguing over what prize to get, there are others who are catching up to us. I even heard that Gibby is making some serious moolah as well."

Sam looked surprised. "Gibby? Making money?"

Freddie shrugged. "Apparently, it has something to do with chipped marble, chocolate milk, and goodness knows what else. Oh, and he's going shirtless again."

Rolling her eyes, the blonde folded her arms and asked, "Well? What do you suggest, Freddork?"

"We team up." Freddie answered, instantly holding a hand up to quell any biting rebuttals. "Think about it. I have the technical knowhow, you have the creativity, and plus," Freddie motioned to the smashed car, "you did promise your parole officer – and Carly – that you'll stay out of trouble."

Sam looked thoughtful for a second, glancing up at Freddie and clearly mulling over his proposal. But before she could speak, one of the students suddenly screamed out "Miss Briggs! She's coming!"

Instantly, before you could say "Vandalism-Schmandalism", the students extricated themselves from the scene of the crime faster than water leaving Gibby's grandfather's bladder. Throwing their weapons to the ground, the student body streaked away at the speed of bacon down Sam's gullet. In the space of seconds, there was nary a living soul in the car park.

Freddie and Sam hadn't been standing still either. When the cry rang out, both of them moved in unusual synchronicity, the latter shoving the stacks of payment money into her bag while the former packed up the table, and both taking off into the safety of the school halls. Peeking around the corner to make sure that they were finally safe, Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Any words she would have said were lost when an anguished cry from a teacher who discovered that her car was currently crushed, smashed and mangled beyond repair, rang out.

Despite themselves, the duo broke out in peals of laughter. After their giggles died down, Sam leant against the lockers and faced Freddie, winking coyly.

"Guess I owe you one. So, what's the plan,_ pard-ner_?"

* * *

**Remember to leave a comment or review! Hearts and PearPhones all around!**

**- NUMBUH777**


	11. iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT: PART 3

I do believe that Winston Churchill once said: "Never ever give up. Unless someone offers you an obscene amount of money, never ever give up."

Wise words.

Hello everybody. Hopefully, the fallout from the iCarly finale that screwed the nation has passed, and the remaining iCarly fans that are still here have learnt to accept it and move on to Victorious (before it ends too) or begun waiting for Sam & Cat. Either way, I'd like to thank the loyal fans who have read this, and as long as there are people who read this, then I shall continue to write for them...and for anyone else who offers me muffins.

Just an announcement; this will be penultimate chapter of this story, and as such, a longer one. I hope you all enjoy this, and stay tuned for the final part of this in a week's time.

So, get reading already, and leave a comment when you're done! :)

* * *

iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT - PART 3

* * *

**_Location: Level Fifteen, The Tipton Hotel  
_****_Time: 2245 hours_**

A ding broke the silent corridor and as the elevator doors slid open, Carly Shay pitched forward and landed on a heap on the carpeted floor. Groaning, the brunette pushed herself up with an effort and, glancing at her room key, sighed and headed to her right, passing door after door until she halted in front of a full-length mirror, taking a moment to appraise her reflection.

The girl that stared back at her was a dishevelled version of herself. Mussed-up hair, eyes slightly glazed over, and – '_is that a punch stain on my new top?'_ came the random thought as said girl unconsciously tried to smooth down her wrinkled attire that showed the effects of a rather wild night.

The reason for Carly's rather unusual appearance was simple. After a surprisingly enjoyable whole day of answering fan questions and showing them sneak previews of future iCarly clips (thanks to a quick text to Freddie and Internet access to the iCarly database), Ash Morgan, hotel manager surprised both her and all her fans with an impromptu party featuring Mustang (the DJ from Hollywood) and David Archuleta himself, who just happened to be staying in the same hotel. For four hours straight, she had partied with the rest of them right till the very end.

Now, the host of iCarly was making her way back to her room for a quick shower and a long rest after the time of her life. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, though, she was still a little overexcited. Carly clamped down on that with an effort and swiped her security card through the scanner. When the light turned green, she eased open the door and slipped inside, mindful of the possibility that her older brother would be sound asleep.

As it turned out, she needn't have worried. Spencer Shay was sitting upright on the queen-sized bed, absent-mindedly channel-surfing while staring blankly at the television.

"Hey Spencer."

"Mph. Evening, Carly." came the reply from Spencer as he watched the television. Carly frowned. Compared to Spencer's various antics over the years, an ordinary greeting seemed almost…normal, almost out of character for her wacky older brother. Then her gaze fell to the bag by Spencer's side and it all instantly became clear.

_Oh Spencer_, she sighed sadly, quickly moving over to sit next to her brother as the elder Shay dipped his hand inside the bag and just as quickly brought some of its contents to his mouth. With one swift move, Carly snatched the object from her brother and placed it back into the bag.

Said brother turned a soulful gaze upon her then, asking in a tone that was quietly pleading, "Can I have my red frogs back?"

The brunette slowly replied, "I'm sorry, Spencer, but you know what these do to you. I can't let you keep eating them."

He nodded sadly, turning back to the television. Carly took the opportunity to hastily reach out for the bag of red frog-shaped gummies before her brother could eat any more. It wasn't because of dental hygiene or so as to not spoil his appetite. Rather, it was because of the high sugar content of those sweets, but not for the obvious reason.

Somewhat unusually, the high sugar levels within the candy did not cause Spencer to become hyperactive, unlike most young children. Bizarrely, it did exactly the opposite – it raised Spencer's sugar levels until he became almost 'super-hyper', or reversed his usual manic personality. Basically, he became _normal_. A few years ago, Spencer had been addicted to the soft chewy sweets for three days before Carly noticed that he had stopped working on his sculptures, failed to set anything on fire, dressed in a three-piece suit, and had begun reading his old law textbook again. Worse of all, he started to only speak in a mild tone of voice with no pitch modulation at all, freaking everybody out.

Carly shuddered. It was even worse than that dream she had a few Christmases ago, when Spencer was normal and Sam and Freddie didn't know her and she was dating Nevel and….

With maternal-like movements, Carly slowly eased the packet of Red Frogs away from her older brother while laying a caring hand on his arm. "What's wrong, Spencer?"

The elder Shay looked at his sister from the corner of his eye. "Sorry for causing you to worry, Carls," he spoke in a dry, bland, yet sincere voice. "I've just been having a bad day, and I needed to drown my sorrows in something. There was a lot I needed to think about."

_Spencer?_ Carly wondered. _Thinking_? Obviously her brother was in worse shape than she thought. But a bad day? How so?

Carly said as much, and her brother turned to face her fully.

"First off, I didn't get a good night's sleep because of food poisoning from the milkshake yesterday. Then, that Exhibition Manager guy threw out all my sculptures, forcing me to run after the garbage truck for seven blocks and root around in the dump for an hour. Next, after lugging all the heavy sculptures back to the hotel, the management wouldn't believe I was a guest here because of my filthy clothes, and threw me out onto the street. After that, three hobos mugged me, demanding the foam balls and Nerf guns I used for my sculptures so that they could use them in a coup against the King of the Hobos. They also stole my shirt. Finally, after I managed to sneak back into my room, I find out that 'Celebrities Under Water' got pre-empted by some Dingo movie special."

Carly stared. All that was said in the same bland, uninterested tone, almost like a businessman discussing the weather or the current share prices. It was totally out of character for her usually animated brother, and it unnerved her to see him this way.

"Oh, come on, Spencer!" Carly punched him lightly on the arm and tried to smile in an attempt to cheer her brother up. "This is nothing compared to your other adventures. Like the time that crazy cowboy tried to ride you, or when you had to fight off the giant rats in the Seattle dump..."

Spencer sighed, the first sign of emotion that he had shown in the last twenty minutes. Carly was shocked to see a hint of sadness in his eyes. "But all that got me thinking. The thing is, Carls," he spoke solemnly, "I'm jealous of you."

Carly could only gape at her brother as he said those words aloud. Never in a thousand years -

"Oh no no no, not in the way you're thinking, sis!" The elder Shay hurriedly interjected. "I don't **_hate_** you or anything! I guess, well, umm...the thing is..."

Spencer paused, fumbling over the right words. In the back of her mind, Carly took his obvious distress as a good sign, a sign that the red frogs were wearing off. "What I'm saying is that you, my little sister, in her nineteen years of life, are already an internationally-recognised webshow host, achieves near-perfect grades at school, and takes care of me way more than I do for her. And I love you for it."

He paused min-drone. "I, on the other hand, barely scraped through high school, only got into Seattle Law College because of Dad's connections, dropped out of said college because I felt it boring, and now I spend my time slumming it up, frittering my days away making sculptures that no one would even care to look at."

"Spencer, that's not tru-"

"No, it is, Carly. You're world-famous, you help people, and you bring the gift of humour into people's lives. I feel," Spencer sighed, " I feel that I'm wasting my life. I'm already in my late twenties, and I haven't done anything useful in my life. Lawyer? Nope. Seattle Cobras' Football player? Nope. Just some crummy artist and sculptor that sticks cotton wool on a stick and tries to peddle it as cotton candy."

Carly was floored. Her mind buzzed in shock as she tried to process all her brother had just said. She wasn't used to such serious talk from Spencer; obviously, the red frogs had impacted her brother deeply.

With a guilty start, she remembered how the convention centre manager, Mr Morgan, had casually brushed off Spencer as a talentless waste of time, and she didn't do anything about it. She also remembered staying in the Convention Centre to party with her fans, agreeing to Mr Morgan's offer to host an iCarly panel despite the horrible way that he treated her brother. She didn't even call Spencer for the entire day.

_No wonder he's depressed. I practically deserted him and I acted like a jerk. And he still loves me and says all these good things about me? I __**am**__ despicable._

Carly turned to Spencer, guilt written all over her face as she tried to express how sorry she was for how she acted today, how she was nothing compared to what her brother had done in taking care of her, how she loved him so much, and so on. But before she could even get the first words out of her mouth, she saw that Spencer had already fallen asleep, expression peaceful for the first time as her brother entered a sugar-induced dreamland.

* * *

**_Location: The iCarly Studio  
_****_Time: 1530 hours_**

Should anyone have attempted to enter Bushwell Plaza, they would have found a crowded lobby full of children and teenagers forming up more or less into a line snaking up the stairs. They would also have found a suspiciously deep-sleeping doorman, slumped over behind his desk in a manner that suggested the involvement of either narcotics or blunt force trauma to the head. Should that person have forced their way up the stairs and past the rowdily impatient children, they would have discovered that the line led all they way up to the eighth floor, to Apartment 8C in particular, and that person would have stopped by the fifth floor and given up in a fit of exhaustion and annoyance.

In the iCarly Studio, Sam and Freddie were busy indeed. After a half-hour of brainstorming that involved writing of notes, plenty of food products and a spit-shake (by Sam's insistence, to gross Freddie out), both of them came up with an idea utilizing both Freddie's technological skills and Sam's propensity for violence. Basically, customers would have 30 seconds to speak, act, perform, sing, juggle flaming gardening tools and so on, and afterwards receive a DVD of their performance or have it posted online. People jumped at the chance at being on iCarly, especially as Freddie and Sam were donating the profits to the fundraiser. Freddie liked it because he got to play with his recording, editing and other technological equipment, and Sam liked it because she enjoyed free entertainment and providing people with questionably legal animals as props. It was a win-win situation; and with the amount of money being made, both Sam and Freddie were confident that they were a shoe-in for first place.

Glancing up momentarily, Freddie took a look around the studio. There was a multitude of people present; Gibby and his younger brother Guppy playing a continuous game of patty-cake for fifteen minutes now to the cheers of the watching kids, Wendy from school high-fiving her friends after seeing her video online, Socko's cousin Doug standing in front of the camera recording a short advertisement for his excavation company including a short juggling bit with three shovels, and a blonde whirlwind named Sam who seemed to be simultaneously participating in a mock MMA fight while taunting her opponent with a variety of insults that called his intelligence and gender into question, all on camera of course.

Freddie grinned, taking a moment to watch Sam. He had said once before that it was refreshing when Sam picked on someone else other than him, but he would never admit it to Sam that he enjoyed doing stuff with her. Somehow, things were much more interesting when he was with her. He just wished that more of those interesting things were legal.

Wendy leaving the iCarly studio and banging the door shut a little too loudly suddenly interrupted his reverie. He turned his head to espy the disturbance, and that movement undoubtedly saved him great pain as a pen whistled past his head with micrometres to spare. Freddie cried out in surprise and turned back to see a smirking Sam in front of him.

"Back to work, Benson! We've got fifteen minutes left and money to make!"

Freddie chuckled and snapped off a mock salute before once again returning to his laptop. Sneaking a peek, he saw that the blonde had once again returned to the crowd of people, this time taking the opportunity to pants a school bully live on camera.

The brunette boy smiled. Things definitely were more interesting when Sam was around.

* * *

**_30 minutes later_**

A short half-hour later, both iCarly's co-host and technical producer were sprawled out upon beanbags on the floor, both in a state of lazy exhaustion after their exploits. Freddie had managed to simultaneously shoot, produce and upload around 57 videos in an hour, something of a personal record for him. Meanwhile, Sam had managed to complete an entire 6 minute break-dance routine while eating a hotdog and beating some guy online in Sacramento via rap battle, also setting a new personal record for herself.

With an effort, Freddie raised his head to glance around the studio. "Umm, who's going to clean up this mess, Sam?"

"Eh, I paid Gibby and Guppy to clean up. They'll have it done by the time Carly returns," came the lazy reply.

Freddie frowned. "How much?"

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, Benson. I gave them the grey wigs we used for last week's iCarly."

"Wait a sec. Don't those wigs have nits?"

Both sidekicks looked at each other for a moment, then simultaneously shrugged and returned to their original comfortable positions. Before long, though, Freddie got to his feet with a grunt. "Well, I better go claim our victory at the school. Where's the money? I need to deliver it to the school by five pm."

Sam jumped up and grabbed a heavily stuffed envelope from under her beanbag. With a quick lick, she wet the opening and sealed it shut, and tossed it to Freddie who caught it reflexively. The blond-haired co-host then collapsed back on her beanbag with a huge smile on her face. "Well, get going then!"

Freddie paused, thrown by her suddenly friendly demeanour. "Why are you suddenly so nice - wait, never mind. You want the steaks. Just remember, we agreed to submit our total money together before we decide which prize to get."

Sam muttered something incoherently. Freddie turned towards the door, but paused again. "You coming, Puckett?"

The girl in question shook her head, not saying a word. Freddie arched an eyebrow at her odd behaviour, but thought nothing of it and strode out. Slowly, the door swung shut, closing with a click. Sam released a breath that she didn't even know she was holding and glanced away, her eyes still troubled.

* * *

**_Location: The Schneider Exhibition Centre  
_****_Time: 0830 hours_**

Deep in thought, the titular host of iCarly paced along the corridors of the exhibition centre for the umpteenth time, unconsciously chewing on the remains of a pretzel from a shady-looking street vendor. Periodically, she glanced at her watch, and constantly, she frowned. Her brother should have arrived by now.

Carly Shay tossed the paper wrapper of her pretzel into a nearby rubbish bin and dusted her hands on her jeans, then gazed around the corridor again. The same long stretch of corridor and the same exhibition centre where she had such a great time just nigh on twelve hours ago now seemed drab, dull, and worse of all, the very wallpaper and ugly carpet seemed to accuse her; reminding Carly of her sins from the previous night and stirring up feelings of guilty shame within.

_Perhaps I've been watching too much Biography Channel_, thought Carly as she ruefully shook her head. _Doesn't mean I disagree though._

Impatiently checking her watch again, she spun around at the whoosh of the main entrance doors opening. Spencer Shay entered, eyes blinking behind sunglasses at the sudden decrease of sunlight. Despite himself, he winced and rubbed his eyes and strode towards her sister lethargically. Carly knew that Spencer's exhaustion was an unfortunate side effect of the red frog gummies that he had devoured last night; the sugar high resulted in a subsequent sugar crash.

"Morning, Spencer!" Carly cried cheerfully, somehow sounding chipper despite the early hour and lack of sleep the previous night. The wonders of coffee, one can only assume. She passed a takeout cup of said liquid caffeine over to her brother (also purchased from the aforementioned shady street vendor), who grabbed it and drank heartily.

"Mph. Morning sis."

Carly bit her bottom lip. "Spencer, I wanna tell you something-"

"Look Carls," her brother interrupted gently, "I know you've got an iCarly panel to do so I'll make this quick. I'm sorry for the whole 'red frogs' thing last night – yesterday was a bad day for me, and I wanted to just do something to take my mind off it. I ate the gummies even though you banned me from doing so months ago; I was being selfish and I ruined your night. I'm sorry, sis. And thanks for taking care of me."

Not noticing his sister's stunned face, Spencer continued. "I woke up this morning and, well, I just wanted to apologise for making you put me to bed, clean me up, that sort of thing. My gloominess and masochistic actions were just self-serving, and I really don't deserve all that you've done for me. Well," the lanky adult stretched tiredly, "I'm going to go lie down in the car now…so, when you finish your panel, head out to the parking lot and we'll go home."

Carly shook herself out of her shock and reached for her brother before he strode out the door. "Wait, Spence, I – "

Unfortunately, that was all she could get out before loud footsteps echoed out from behind the two and interrupted her for the second time. Ash Morgan, Exhibition Manager strode arrogantly towards the Shay siblings, his voice booming out "Well, well, well! Look who we have here!"

"People actually say that?" Spencer whispered to Carly.

The Exhibition Manager halted in front of them, continuing his faux-cheery speech. "Miss Shay, good to see you again! I'm _absolutely delighted_ that you're back here to finish off the morning. I sincerely hope that everything will go smoothly today. And _Mr Shay!_ What a _pleasure_! Did you manage to get all your…umm…_items_ back from the dump?"

The elder Shay winced as the volume from Mr Morgan's speech assualted his eardrums. "Yeah," he brusquely replied, turning towards the exit. "Now, if you'll excuse me…"

"No Spencer, wait!"

The man in question tiredly turned to face his sister with a quizzical look on his face.

"I want to show you something." So saying, Carly Shay took several steps forward and opened the exhibition room doors, throwing them open with a flourish. What was inside took Spencer's breath away. Instead of yesterday's iCarly posters, banners and memorabilia, the room was now lined with Spencer's sculptures, pictures and artwork. Every single one of the pieces that Spencer had so faithfully lugged all the way here was skillfully reproduced in all its artistic glory, with name cards, brochures, and prices to boot, all to honour their creator. It truly was an art exhibition to be proud of.

Spencer Shay turned back to his younger sister, mouth open in shock. "Wha…wha…"

"It's an exhibition for you, Spencer. I went downstairs last night and asked the night-shift workers to set this up, and then I asked Freddie to contact our fans and any art critics and lovers to come today. All of them accepted despite the rush, including Harry Joyner, Nathan Ford, and Mr Kent from the Daily Bugle. All this for you, Spencer.

"What you said to me last night in your sugar-fuelled haze got me thinking, Spence." Carly continued, speaking quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "The whole time yesterday, I was so caught up with myself and iCarly that I didn't even think of you – the man that made it all possible."

Spencer looked surprised. "That's not tr-"

"But it IS, Spence!" Carly interrupted. "When Dad left, you were always looking out for me. You paid the bills, you helped me with homework and iCarly, and you always took care of me both when I was little and up to right now. Even just five minutes ago, you were wishing me good luck for my panel! You're selfless, Spencer, and you're the best brother I know."

The younger Shay took a breath. She knew that wasn't all.

"And Spencer – I'm sorry that I deserted you. I didn't stand up for you yesterday, and caused you to go to the dump and fight hobos alone. I, Carly Shay, not you, was the selfish one, and I am so sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Spencer didn't even have to think about it. He wrapped his arms tightly around his little sister and, with a tear of joy in his eye, he whispered, "Of course, Carls. I love you so much. Thank you." The moment seemed to stretch forever, and both Shays could not have been happier anywhere else at that moment.

So, of course, it was quickly and rudely broken by Ash Morgan, Exhibition Manager. "What is the meaning of this?!" he spluttered. "We agreed to do an iCarly episode and/or panel here this morning!"

Carly quickly broke her brother's embrace and turned to face Mr Morgan, eyes blazing with fury. "I don't owe you anything, you slimy jerkwad! Do whatever unbunches your undies, but my brother is HAVING his art exhibition, like we were told back in Seattle! And there's nothing you can say or do to stop me!"

Her brother arched an eyebrow, impressed at the Sam-like tirade. However, Ash Morgan was unimpressed. "Are you sure about that, young lady?" he angrily retorted, "I can have you both kicked out of this exhibition centre!"

"Actually, you can't."

Both partied paused as Spencer stepped forward, staring right into Ash Morgan's eyes. "I might have only gone to law school for three days, but I do recall that breach of contract is still a civil action and criminal offense in America. After all, you did cost me great expense in promising me an art exhibition here. And unless you want me to sue this centre, or report this to the police, or even worse," Spencer grinned evilly, "show your bosses and shareholders the recording I made of the phone offer, you can't kick us out."

Ash Morgan blanched, his face turning pale and beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. There was no doubt that Spencer had bested him. Attempting to salvage what was left of his dignity, the exhibition manager tried to sneer and turn away. "1pm. That's it. Be out of here by then."

As he strode away, Carly turned to her brother and commented, almost as casually as talking about the weather, "What a perfectly loathsome man."

"Mhmm. A perfect fartbag."

"Did you really have a recording of the conversation?"

"'Course not, sis. It's me. I was bluffing."

The two traded smirks before Spencer's usual goofy smile emerged. "Thanks Carls," he beamed.

And as Carly stood there, smiling at her brother's joy as he went to meet his guests and art critics, she thought: _It's not really enough to thank Spencer for all he did for me_, _but it's a start_.

* * *

**_Location: The iCarly Studio  
_****_Time: 1745 hours_**

Samantha Puckett was not usually one to sit still. One would usually find her in the midst of movement, whether it be dancing randomly, devouring meat products, or physically abusing people she disliked. And yet, the blonde was sitting absolutely still, staring off into space with a thoughtful expression on her face, with nary a meat product in sight. Sam had not said a word since Gibby had left twenty minutes earlier with the cleaning done and the wigs donned. She was sure that he would be scratching within the hour. But the empty house merely left her alone with her thoughts...and as she was wrestling internally with what she did –

A loud ding startled her out of her reverie. The elevator doors slid open with a groan of grinding metals, revealing Carly Shay herself with several pieces of luggage and looking exhausted, yet with a huge smile on her face. "Sam!" Carly squealed, leaping forward to give her best friend a hug. Sam returned the hug, grinning widely. "Good to see you again, Carls."

The brown-haired girl released Sam, still smiling. She headed back to the elevator and grabbed her bags, Sam joining her, and together hauled them out while Carly chatted about her trip.

"...and then Spencer got approached by some of the gallery board members, and they offered to have a real exhibition for him next month, all expenses paid. Oh, and some kids gave Mr Morgan a wedgie."

Sam chuckled, then quirked an eyebrow. "Speaking of which, where's Spencer?"

"Oh, he went to Socko's to return the van. Speaking of which," the younger Shay mimicked, "where's Freddie?"

Carly was surprised to see Sam twitch when she mentioned Freddie. It was gone in a second, a giant goofy fake smile plastered all over her face. "Oh, the nub went out for some reason," she flapped her hand in the direction of the door. "So, Carly," she hurriedly continued, "How are you going with your history assignment? You know, the one about the, umm...people...shooting each other...and the guy with the beard and the really big hat..."

Sam trailed off as Carly arched an eyebrow. "The American Civil War?"

"Yeah, that one." Sam said, eagerly latching onto the change of subject. "They were trying to fight the Chinese for their tea or something, right?"

Carly begun to chuckle. "There is so much wrong in that statement, I don't know where to begin. Don't you listen in class?"

"Umm..."

"And don't think I know when you're avoiding the subject, Sam." Carly continued. "What's with you anyway? You're even more nervous than the time you challenged Matthew "Fatman" Preston to an eating contest."

Carly was right; Sam was rather nervous. The blonde sidekick then faked a yawn and took a long and pointed look at her watch. "Umm...I just remembered, I have...err... a lot of homework to do, so I guess I'll see you to-"

The door flew open with a loud bang, interrupting her, and Freddie Benson stormed into the Shay apartment. "Samantha Puckett!" he growled, a look of intense fury on his face. He stopped right in front of his blonde nemesis and glowering, he continued, "You cheated me!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Fredward -"

"I spent 50 minutes on the bus to school today, and when I finally managed to see Principal Franklin, he told me that Wendy already claimed Australian Outback Spectacular tickets with all our money!"

"So?! What does that have to do with me -"

"I called her, Sam!" came the angry retort. Sam's face began to pale as Freddie continued. "I called her. She told me that you told her to do it in return for fifty bucks. They even made the tickets out in your name!"

Freddie raked a hand through his brown hair, frazzled. "You know why I wanted the PearPod Mini, Sam? I needed to stay in the AV Club," Freddie held up a hand to forestall argument, "not really because I love it ever so much, but because if I'm not in an extracurricular activity, I'll have to take summer school programs to make up the credit."  
Sam, and for that matter Carly on the sidelines, was speechless. By now Freddie's vehemence had run its course, and when he spoke again, he seemed tired, spent.

"You know, Sam, I thought we had an agreement. But not only that, I thought we were friends - and friends don't do this to each other."

Carly started in surprise, but she was even more surprised by what happened to Sam.

Sam flinched.

The girl who didn't bat an eyelid when escaping prisoners tied them to chairs. The girl who stared down crazy super-fan Nora. The girl who smashed schoolyard bullies with a butter-sock. She flinched. Sam flinched almost as if she was struck, and in a way, Freddie's words had cut right through her.

The slamming of the door, signalling Freddie's departure, brought both girls out of their shock. In a heartbeat, Carly had spun around to face her blonde co-host and best friend with eyes blazing.

"Tell me everything," she growled. "Now."

* * *

_**Well? What do you think? Leave a review, comment, or flame here and let me know!**_

_**Do it.**_

**- NUMBUH777**


	12. iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT: EPILOGUE

Merry Christmas! I hope you all had presents in your stockings and chocolate in your tummies! I know I did. :)

So, here it is. The finale. This was about 3 years in the making, and here, on Christmas Day, I give it to you, as a extra-special present to warm the cockles of your hearts. Ta da.

Thank you for those who have stuck through this, and shame on you for those who didn't leave a review. Also, thanks to** irishfan62** for your kind words and the query in the comment he left on this story. To answer your question, although it was never explicitly stated, Sam gave Wendy the money, and Freddie a sealed envelope filled with something else. Sorry, I should have been more explicit. Whatever was in there shall remain a mystery for your imagination to fill in however you'd like, but it would have been enough to cause him to believe that the money was in there, when in reality, it was not.

Whew.

So, this is over. As a even bigger and better treat for the New Year of 2013, I will be posting up a little oneshot of my own in a week's time. Look out for it and post reviews until your fingers burst!

Have fun, read the epilogue, and leave a comment here, and then you can get back to stuffing your faces with candy canes again. :)

* * *

iSTEAL THE SPOTLIGHT - THE EPILOGUE

* * *

_**Location: Bushwell Plaza, Apartment 8D  
Time: 2100 hours**_

Freddie Benson was in a rare mood.

Just a few hours ago, he had exited the Shay apartment in a blaze of anger and come storming into his own, slamming shut the door behind him in a fit of fury. He did the same to his room door, and began to do the one thing he continually did when Sam made him angry. He screamed into his pillow.

It was therapeutic, or so said _Oprah_. Freddie always took what she said with a pinch of salt. He yelled, a full-bodied primal roar that seemed to well up from within the depths of his anger and resentment, and let the muffled cry expel itself into his pillow and out of his body. He was supposed to feel better. Freddie just felt stupid. But every time Sam made him angry, it didn't stop him from doing it anyway. Out of a need to be doing something, he began to pummel the pillow.

The brown-haired boy was, at that point, simmering over with fury and resentment. Why did Sam always have to trick him, to embarrass him, to always get her way even if she trampled on him to do so? Why couldn't she have waited until the 'telethon' had ended, and then discussed a possible compromise with him afterwards? Why did she have to be so damned selfish? Why should he still be friends with a girl who belittled him, who abused him verbally and physically, and who doesn't respect him?

Freddie would have gone on in a similar vein for hours had not his neurotic mother burst into his room and dragged him out, scolding him for slamming the doors (_Doors are made to be closed, not slammed / Lest you end up in the Village of the Dammed!_) and, over Freddie's protests, sat him in the corner and forced him to _"think about your rude door-slamming behaviour!"_ for the next 30 minutes. Or be faced with an extra delousing scrub-down for good measure.

If that didn't ruin a bad mood, nothing would.

Instead of thinking about slamming doors for thirty minutes, Freddie took the time to stew in his anger some more, before slowly inhaling and exhaling, trying to get his breathing back down to normal lest he hyperventilate and faint. Afterwards, he got up and went back to his room again, compartmentalising his anger away and forcing himself to calm down and think rationally. Plus, any more outbursts of anger and his mother would be there again, claiming that he was going through mood swings caused by late-stage puberty and forcing him to digest healthy drinks made from questionable ingredients in order to improve his vitamin levels.

Over-protective parenting, go figure.

He spent his time alternatively trying to cheer himself up by watch funny videos on TheSlap (apparently a video involving a redheaded girl and a stuffed giraffe had garnered over 10,000 hits) and writing a depressingly long letter of resignation to the A.V. Club. In it, he expressed his regrets on not being able to 'lead them forward into the next semester and into a new chapter of technological appreciation', citing work commitments at his new job (not true), increased iCarly time requirements (also not true; they had just hired Brad the intern and he was enjoying the lessened amount of work and the increased amount of fudge), and the immense quantity of schoolwork given (true, oddly enough).

Better they think he had such a busy schedule than they know he failed to get his hands on the latest tech, and thus, fail at even being a nerd.

Without warning, there came a sudden knock on the door. Freddie raised his head and listened. When the sound repeated itself, the brown-haired boy sighed and trudged wearily to answer it; his mother had left for an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting an hour ago. Not that she was a member, mind you – she just liked going there to listen to the stories and mentally congratulate herself for raising her son right.

Freddie sometimes thought she had problems.

The Benson boy mentally composed himself for chasing away anyone who wanted to disturb his brooding time, and opened the door to find…

…No one.

The corridor was bereft of people. There was only a box, wrapped in black plastic, and an envelope with his name written neatly upon it.

_Freddie._

A prudent man might have approached the parcel carefully, especially in the day and age of terrorism, 9/11, and Sam Puckett surprises. Instead, Freddie merely reached down and picked up the parcel and envelope both, tucking the box under his arm before opening the envelope. Inside was a letter, messily written and with many corrections and cancellations, a clear contrast with the unusual neatness of the writing on the envelope, and the paper was tinged with the smell of meatballs.

_Sam_, Freddie thought wryly. He leant against the doorway, the mystery box still held underarm, and began to read the paper in his hand.

_Freddie,_ the letter read:

_First off, inside the box is a brand new PearBook Pro with a new screen or something. It's the latest one, apparently, or so said a nerd I found on the street and threatened with a wedgie. You will be able to use this to impress your geek friends and stay in the dorky A.V. Club. By the way, the nerd also gave me a ten-minute rundown on its specifications, despite my attempts to stop him by dunking him in a fountain. Reminds me of you. _ _Oh, you might want to do your serial number masking thing on the laptop before you connect it to the Internet. Let's just say Big Brother is everywhere._

Freddie paused, glancing down warily at the wrapped package in his hand before continuing reading.

_I also wanted to say that I apologise. I really wanted the tickets, and I did what I thought I had to do to win. I tricked you, I embarrassed you, I betrayed your trust – and I wanted to say that I am sorry._

_Okay, well, Carly made me write out that part at gunpoint. Okay, not gunpoint, precisely, but she threatened to throw out all the ham. She knows what happened, by the way. Your little scene earlier caused me to suffer a 'Carly Shay-patented interrogation' after you left…doesn't mean I didn't deserve it. Carly made me write out the words earlier. It doesn't mean that it isn't true._

_Look, you know my past. I have a competitive nature – after all, it was a dog-eat-dog world out there in juvie. That time, I never had any friends like you or Carly, friends who weren't trying to rip me off, or sell me out, or use as a distraction while their friends pick-pocketed the guards. And even with you guys, I was still ultra-competitive to the point of neurosis. Remember the time that Carly and I fought over that guy, what's-his-face? Yeah. You saw how bad it turned out._

_I'm rambling, aren't I?_

_No matter how competitive I am, or why I became like that, it still doesn't excuse how I treated you today. Talking with Carly made me realise that – you're not like one of the jerks from juvie. You weren't trying to rip me off or steal the thing from under my nose, but you wanted to work together to get the money and then work out who should get the prize. Like a friend would. In the end, it was both our work that won this, so we should have both got the prize. I'm just sorry that I was too much a pitch not to realise it._

_I will try to change, I promise. Carly says I'm "mellowing out". Of course, she also said that about my rabid cat Fluffy, and he has a temper just north of Miss Briggs after her car got smashed. But I will try, I swear. After all, you deserve it._

_Thanks for everything. And I am sorry once again. _

_- Sam_

_P.S. You will not show this to ANYONE. If you do, I will make sure that the collection of Galaxy Wars action figures hidden in the display cabinet in your closet will suffer an unfortunate incident with firecrackers. Mama has a reputation to keep up._

Freddie finished the letter and folded it up, finding himself nodding as he mulled over the contents. He could understand his blonde nemesis a bit better now. He realised that Sam was who Sam was, flaws and all, and they were friends, for better or for worse, whatever Sam might say otherwise. He supposed that in some way, he did care for her, and one glance at the highly suspicious PearBook Pro indicated that, in some way, she did care too.

Glancing down the hall, he saw the blonde co-host of iCarly herself at the end of the corridor, appearing as if from thin air. Leaning against the wall far too casually to be natural and with both hands in her pockets as if she didn't have a care in the world, she met his gaze with normally unfathomable blue eyes.

"Meatball?" Sam Puckett asked with faux-cheer, pulling out a bag filled with the round meat products from the deep pockets of her jacket and offering it to him. Freddie was instantly struck with déjà vu, of another time with meatballs, before shaking his head quickly to dispel the stray thought and to indicate no to Sam. Instead, he held up the black-wrapped package.

"I'm not going to have anyone knocking on my door over this, am I?"

Sam quirked a smile, before replying, "I don't see why anyone would. It fell off a truck."

The brown-haired boy returned the smile with a small one of his own, all the while making a mental note to mask the serial number before use. The Puckett girl strode over to him then, slowly, before pausing a respectable distance away. "We cool?" she said, brusquely.

Freddie looked into her eyes then, sensing the unspoken apology behind the tough façade. He knew, both through the letter and through _her_, and that was enough. He nodded slightly to acknowledge the apology.

"We're cool, Sam."

Sam returned the nod, smiling softly. Then she paused, unnaturally vulnerable and ill-at-ease, and opened her mouth to speak. "Freddie, I…"

"Yeah?"

She seemed on the verge of saying something more, before abruptly changing her mind. "Nothing. See you tomorrow, Fredward." And so saying, she left.

Freddie could only stare at her retreating back in confusion. Shrugging, the brown-haired boy trudged back into the safety of his apartment. He was glad that everything was relatively back to normal, but he didn't have time to dwell on Sam's odd behaviour. After all, he had schoolwork to do, including the Lock-In next week. He would mull over the situation after that.

_And who knows, _Freddie mused. _Things might be different after the lock-in._

If only he knew.

* * *

_**And...that is**** it! Of course, fans of iCarly would know that things really did change after the lock-in, leading to one of the greatest arcs in television history. If they HAD stayed changed, then possibly, I wouldn't be so annoyed at the finale. Ah well.**_**_  
_**

_**Merry Christmas to the entire iCarly fanfic community, and stay tuned for the special New Years' oneshot in a week's time!  
**_

_**- NUMBUH777  
**_


	13. iSTART A NEW YEAR: AN iCARLY ONESHOT

Good Morning, one and all, and welcome to the end.

Again, I did promise that this would be up on New Years, but unfortunately, technological and logistical problems forced me to postpone it until now. Better late than never, eh?

This oneshot was originally written for the Bickering Sidekicks Seddie forum's 2009 Christmas Seddie X-Change. After three years, it has finally been gifted to you. Merry Christmas. Of course, disclaimers first; this was written before the events in iOMG, and as such references made will be to before those events, and are now, with the advent of iOMG, strictly non-canonical. Additionally, there will obviously be Seddie interaction inside. If that is not your cup of tea, go drink some coffee. Thank you.

Thanks to all the people who left comments and favourited iSteal the Spotlight. I would just like to take the time to reply:

**Seddie26: **Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you certainly read more!

**irishfan62: **I fully agree. The Seddie arc seemed like a carrot dangled on the end of a stick for Seddiers - it made us continue to follow the series in the hopes of more carrots. Personally, I think Dan got lazy at the success of the show, and he thought that as long as people kept watching it and he continued to throw both sides bones, he could get away with putting out substandard material. Even guest actors did little to improve it. He might do better with Sam & Cat, but I doubt it - his talent seems to have peaked with the Seddie arc.  
Also, I think Sam & Freddie's reasons for breaking up were contrived at best. Just saying.  
I don't really want to brag, but I did predict on the Bickering Sidekicks Seddie forum that it was unlikely that the finale would have any Seddie moments, but more likely that it would leave things unresolved between the both of them. As you know, that came true, and made Freddie act like a complete douche. I also argued therefore, and Freddie appeared on Sam & Cat as a recurring character, it would either be in a non-romantic role, or to serve as a competitor for Sam's current male interest (new actor / character in Hollywood), and as such it would not be good for him to appear in Sam & Cat. There were violent disagreements on the forum, but we shall see. :)

I would also like to take this time to thank all you iCarly fans for reading my story, and for those on the Bickering Sidekicks Seddie forum who have served to discuss every episode and make my day more exciting. I will not be updating this for a long time - especially since iCarly has ended, so must this fanfic. Thank you for all your comments and reviews. Leave some for this oneshot and tell me what you think.

And so, once more, for old times sake, here we go. Enjoy.

* * *

_**iSTART A NEW YEAR - AN iCARLY ONESHOT**_

* * *

_**Location: The iCarly Studio**_  
_**Time: 2315 hours**_

_"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the 15th Annual Seattle RiverFire Event! My name is Tom Tucker, and here's a recap of the past three hours…"_

Fredward 'Freddie' Benson gave an annoyed grunt and shifted his beanbag into a more comfortable position, all the while staring blankly at the television screen. He didn't want to watch the RiverFire, but unfortunately both the MMA championships and the scheduled Pear Industries Keynote had been bumped for Seattle's biggest event on New Year's Eve – and the other channels were showing documentaries of the origin of common household items.

_It was all Sam's fault that he was cooped up here like this_, he grumbled to himself. Carly Shay, his good friend and host of the popular comedic webshow iCarly (of which he was the very capable technical producer), had received an invitation to attend the RiverFire opening ceremonies and make a speech. In addition, she was allowed to bring one person of her choice to come with her for moral support.

Basically, Carly had three choices. She could bring Freddie Benson, who wanted to go to observe the audiovisual effects used during the event and possibly get some ideas for iCarly. She could bring Samantha Puckett, co-host of iCarly and Freddie's other good friend, who wanted to go because there was free catering of an insanely wide array of food. Or she could bring her brother Spencer, who wanted to go because the fireworks at the end of the night "looked really, really pretty".

Obviously, Spencer's argument was unconvincing, not helped at all by his use of tomato sauce and the 'Hokey-Pokey' in a vain attempt to win his little sister over. While Freddie's dissertation, with technical specifications included, was mind-numbingly boring even by his standards, he was sure that any reason Sam tried to give to support her motive would be as useless as an vertical ejector seat for a helicopter. But she did something he didn't expect. She played dirty…and had a little chat with Freddie's mother – Freddie's neurotic mother, who was scared to death of anything happening to 'her baby boy', even things that would only happen if aliens and gorillas mated and the sun ate Pluto. The moment Mrs Benson heard that her son wanted to go to a place that had large crowds, water, and fireworks; she nearly had a heart attack.

And so Freddie had been grounded, far away from any RiverFire fun. Sam thus had the opportunity to go with Carly and eat all the food she ever wanted, and as Spencer was driving, the Benson boy was well and truly alone. In a petulant rage, he had left his house and headed across the corridor to the Shays' empty apartment and the iCarly studio despite his mum's objections – if nothing else, at least he could watch TV on a magnificent Liquid Plasma Display.

Thus, here he was now. Missing out on an experience he would have loved, all thanks to a girl that he did hate.

A vibrating sensation in his pocket brought him out of his reverie. Freddie pulled out his mobile phone, and glanced at the screen.

_Speak of the devil…_

The text from Sam read: _Yo dork, where you at?_

Fighting the urge to reply with a death threat, Freddie simply ignored it.

Ten minutes later, Sam sent the same text again. And then again, and once more for good measure, followed up with an: _I can do this all night, dork._

Gritting his teeth, Freddie finally picked up his phone and replied: _What do you want, Sam? Gloating over your little coup?_

[**SAM**]: No…and I don't know what a 'coup' is anyway, nerd. I repeat: Where you at, Dork?

[**FREDDIE**]: Well, I was planning to go to a really cool event called RiverFire, but some hobknocker told my mum on me, so I'm stuck watching it in the iCarly studio.

**[SAM]:** Wow. You bore me.

**[FREDDIE]:** You know what, Sam? You can be a real jerk sometimes.

**[SAM]:** Only sometimes? I must not be doing my job well enough then. :P

**[FREDDIE]:** I'm serious, Sam. Telling my mum was a low blow.

**[SAM]:** And low blows affect you when, Fredweiner?

**[FREDDIE]:** -.-". I thought girls were supposed to be nice and everything – guess you're the exception, Samantha.

**[SAM]:** Dude, never call me Samantha, or you will be in a world of hurt and pain.

**[FREDDIE]:** Yeah, right. You know I'm not as weak as I used to be.

**[SAM]:** And I also know that your manliness, just like unicorns, doesn't exist.

**[FREDDIE]:** Your know what else doesn't exist? Your chances of actually passing this academic year.

**[SAM]:** Watch it, Benson. Mama's not in the mood. Speaking of which, stop scratching your back – you look like a monkey. Well, more than you usually do.

Freddie paused mid-scratch, turning around at the sound of insistent tapping on the glass studio door. There, standing behind the locked door, was a smirking Sam waving her mobile phone and beckoning him to open the door. Over Freddie's initial shock at seeing her, and her seeing him scratch his back, he began to grin at her predicament – after all, she was locked out.

Sam caught sight of his grin, and eyes narrowing, poked out a message and sent it to Freddie. It simply read: _Open the door, Benson!_

Freddie shifted even more comfortably in his beanbag, his grin widening at Sam's rising annoyance. He typed back: _First say something nice about me._

The brown-haired boy saw Sam fighting internally for about two minutes, before grudgingly typing back: _Fine. You're the hottest guy in town, and I bet the ladies would be falling over themselves to date you._

Once he finished reading the text, Freddie stood up and slowly made his way over to the door. Throwing it open and watching the blonde-haired girl stride inside, he wasn't surprised to hear her mutter: "That is, if every other guy in the world got hit by a garbage boat."

"Aww Sam, you DO care!" Freddie sarcastically piped up, closing the door and plopping down on the beanbag next to her. Disregarding Sam's outstretched tongue as a response, he continued, "Why are you here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be at RiverFire?"

Sam turned a lazy eye on him, answering, "Well, I felt bad that I got you grounded, so I decided to make it up to you by gracing your dorky self with my awesome presence."

Freddie was stunned…for about three seconds. "Sam, come on," he replied, giving her an 'I-don't-believe-you' look.

"Fine. Spencer started throwing a tantrum, so Carly begged me let Spencer go. I got bored trying to sneak in, so I decided to go hang with a dork on my New Year's Eve," came the irritated answer from Sam, who continued to stare at the television while unconsciously brushing some strands of hair out of her eyes.

Freddie Benson was about to make a smart reply about karma when he noticed Sam – in particular, her face and actions. Every little thing she did oozed frustration. With a start, he realised that Sam had really wanted to go to RiverFire, even to the extent of causing himself to be grounded, and the fact that Carly had begged and convinced her to let Spencer go instead must have been maddening. So instead of a witty riposte that would have metaphorically cast the first stone, Freddie kindly said, "Well, there's always next year," and turned back to the TV. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Sam glancing at him in slight surprise at his lack of unkind remarks. Her gaze switched between the television and Freddie, before asking, "Alright. Why did you just let me off the hook?"

Freddie gave her a lopsided smile, still facing the TV. "I guess it doesn't pay to hold grudges, Sam - especially between friends."

A pause, then Sam, with trademark impatience, swivelled in her beanbag to her right, tugging Freddie's sleeve to make him face her despite his protests. "What now, Sam? RiverFire - "

"Forget RiverFire, Frednub. There's something I've been confused about for a while." Sam interrupted.

"Simple arithmetic, or how to eat with cutlery?" Freddie quipped, earning him a punch on the arm. He winced as his arm instantly went numb.

"I'm serious, Benson. When did we become," Sam raised her fingers in air quotation marks, "friends? When did we get so comfortable with each other? When did the yelling, fighting and wedgies turn into," she gestured to the both of them, "this?"

Freddie paused, thinking hard. It was true that several years ago, neither of them would be caught dead spending time in each other's presence. Sam was a tomboy with an unnatural love of food, and bullied almost everyone that she considered nerds and nubs. Freddie was a Grade-A student and momma's boy that was obsessed with all things technology, and for years, Carly Shay. After Carly asked both of them to be part of iCarly, it was inevitable that both of them would collide – and collide they did. For the better part of a year, hardly a day would go by without insults, name-calling, pranks, or if Sam was feeling particularly rambunctious, impromptu wrestling matches.

Lately though, things had changed indeed. As the years passed and both of them had grown, both of them had found that hanging out with the other wasn't so bad after all. There was less fighting, more jokes, and somehow, both of them had ended up as friends – that is, if they would ever admit it.

Turning over thoughts in his head, Freddie realised that he had been doing things for Sam that previously he would have cut off his arm before doing so. He had given up a school-at-sea cruise to get rid of Carly's ex-BFF, who was trying to eliminate Sam as competition. He had sided with her on numerous arguments that he could really care less about. He had even picked her up when her bicycle broke down. And yet, Sam had also done nice things for him as well. She had saved him from adoring fangirls at this year's Webicon. She had pushed him down the stairs to save him from having the grotesque doorman as a stepfather. And she had apologised on iCarly for revealing that he had never kissed anyone.

Somehow, over the way, they had become best friends.

But of course, Freddie thought, it was impossible to spell all that out to Sam. He wasn't even sure of his thoughts right now. So he shrugged his shoulders carelessly in reply, saying, "I dunno. I guess we just grew up."

Sam turned away, apparently satisfied. Freddie, on the other hand, was not. Now that he had started thinking about things, he wasn't going to stop.

Approximately three years ago, Sam had kissed him. Coming out to apologise for revealing that he had never kissed anyone on air, both of them had ended up talking. One thing led to another, and after swearing that this was 'just to get it out of the way', and that they would 'go back to hating each other afterwards', they had both kissed. The first may have been correct, Freddie considered. The second, however, never happened. Oh sure, for the next few weeks, they both went right back to pounding on each other – but as Freddie already pointed out to himself, events of the future showed that both of them gradually became more friendly with each other.

Things were never the same after that.

Freddie turned his head to look surreptitiously at Sam. Somehow, she had changed in his mind from hated enemy that he tolerated for Carly, to a friend that he knew would have his back – as long as there were no Fatcakes nearby.

With a shock, he realised that, just as over the years his obsession for Carly had cooled to a quiet friendship, his hatred for Sam had kindled and shifted to something deeper. Some would call it love. Others would call it quiet companionship. Freddie just knew that, without Sam, his life would never have been the same. Somehow, the blond demon that had messed with his early teenage life, gotten him in trouble countless times, and cost him thousands in pocket money had become, in his mind, more than his best friend.

And suddenly, he didn't care about Sam causing him to be grounded tonight. After all, he got to spend time with her.

Freddie was jarred out of his thoughts by Sam chucking an empty cup at his head, pouting that he had zoned out and wasn't paying her any attention. He chuckled. He wouldn't give this up for the wor-

"Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now entering the last minute countdown! Make sure you grab that special someone and kiss them on the start of the New Year!"

With shocked glances at the sudden interruption of the RiverFire presenter's voice, Sam and Freddie snapped their heads to glance at each other simultaneously. Both laughed nervously and turned away, each pretending to be busy doing something else. Freddie fiddled with his PearPhone for three seconds before he made up his mind. Throwing caution to the wind, he raised his head to look at Sam. Strangely enough, she was gazing back at him with an inscrutable expression on her face. But as Freddie was staring into her eyes, he saw her gaze soften. And somehow, he knew that she felt the same way too. Little did he know that she had been thinking as well and had come to the same conclusion that he did.

As the RiverFire presenter continued to chant the numbers backward, the blond girl smiled softly. "Well, lean," she whispered just loud enough for Freddie to hear, unconsciously echoing one of their most favourite memories.

Freddie grinned back.

_In five…four…three…two…_

_One._

And they both kissed for the second time, a mix of brown and blonde hair, with the light from the fireworks painting rainbows on their faces and the hubdub from the RiverFire crowd rising from the television.

_Happy New Year, Sam Puckett_, thought Freddie Benson.

* * *

_**...And this is it. Happy 2013, everyone. May your year be fruitful and blessed, full of chocolate and Sam & Cat. It has been a blast writing these for you (and myself), and who knows? Maybe one day, I might write one of these again and post it up. As long as people review, I have the will to write.**_

_**God Bless.**_

_**- NUMBUH777**_


End file.
